


hand in unlovable hand

by avoidfilledwithcelluloid



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Boys in Skirts, Dirty Talk, Fat L Theory, Foot Jobs, Ghost Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Leashes, Light BDSM, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Public Display of Affection, Public Sex, Sci Fi Horror, Spanking, Trans Male Character, Trans Yagami Light, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Vaginal Fingering, Yeah Cryptid L is in this one now guys, cryptid AU, for easier reading, just collecting all these in one spot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-27 12:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 57
Words: 64,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidfilledwithcelluloid/pseuds/avoidfilledwithcelluloid
Summary: "When they looked at each other, it was through the windows of their different bodies. Someday, though, L imagined they might become one large haunted house with hallways that lead into each other’s thoughts."(all of my lawlight inbox fics collected in one place. lots of different themes. both sfw and nsfw fics included.)





	1. please talk to me

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually gonna be the first inbox fic I ever did for lawlight. i rlly like it tbh and i think its p cute. anyway. hope u like it!!

Chief Yagami was an incredibly genuine man. L might have liked to meet him under different circumstances but he liked him still. As he gave an impassioned speech to the investigative team about filing paperwork correctly, L’s phone went off. The team went silent as he took it out of his pocket and looked at the caller i.d.

“Ah,” he said. “It’s Light.”

A collective intake of breath cut through the air. Prying open the phone with ginger fingers, L put it to his ear. He opened his mouth, greeting on the tip of his tongue, and got cut off by Light’s hurried voice.

“Please. Talk to me.”

“Hm?” L blinked. “What is Light doing?”

“Oh, ha, ha,” Light laughed with such effervesce that L knew it was faked. “You’re telling me, Ryuga.”

“Ah, I see. Light has called me in order to escape a difficult conversation.” With one hand, L leveraged himself out of his chair and headed out of the room. “I suppose I can help you.”

“Ryuzaki,” Matsuda said. “Where are you going?”

L turned around to look Matsuda in the eyes and then shut the hotel room door behind him. Down the hallway on either side were cloying, peach-colored walls. A few paintings of boats hung on these walls as well as some curling lamps that cast warm light over the space. L started to shuffle down the hallway as, in his ear, Light continued to chatter.

“So how are you doing today?”

“I’m depressed,” L said. “Matsuda spilled coffee on several important documents.”

“How upsetting.” Light’s voice dipped. “You must’ve been devastated.”

The dryness of his delivery choked a little smirk out of L. There were a scattered few times that Light amused him since more often than not he found talking to Light an exercise in tediousness. His every answer was already calculated behind a wall that L could only claw at. His fingernails started to bleed after so long tearing at bricks. Chipping a bit of the wall away was satisfying in it’s own way but these times when Light opened to L of his own volition carried a different kind of weight. It worried him, at times, how easy it would be to just like Light: to want to hear him tell a joke or share a story just because his presence was appealing to L.

“Yes,” he said. “After he did that, I told him I’d fire him if he didn’t print off the documents again and make ten copies.”

“You’re so mean, Ryuga,” Light chuckled. “You shouldn’t be so hard on him all the time. It’s just going to bite you on the ass later.”

“I doubt it.” He reached and tilted a boat painting so it hung too far to the left. “Are you away from the person you were avoiding now?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I called so suddenly. A woman was trying to get me to sign some petition so I thought I’d pretend to be on a phone call and yours was the first number I thought of.”

“Light has my number memorized?”

A heavy silence hung over the phone and L could nearly hear the ticking sound of Light coming up with an excuse.

“I mis-spoke,” Light said. “I meant to say your name.”

“Of course.” L wormed his toes into the rough hallway carpet. Some of these hotels had the ugliest carpets he’d ever seen. “Does Light need me to stay on the phone with him any longer?”

“Oh.” A note of surprise perked up in Light’s voice. “No, not really. I guess I just enjoy talking to you. That’s all.”

“Do you remember that I’m conducting an investigation right now?”

“Yeah. You should get back to the team.” Light sighed. “Well, anyway, I’ll see you tonight.”

The touch of casualness in Light’s response stopped L’s thoughts. Something almost interested lurked at the edge of the other man’s voice as though he were bringing up plans to see a movie later. As though they were just friends who met up often, maybe even every night, and enjoyed being around each other. That strange parallel universe contained within Light’s tone was tempting to consider. He’d never had someone say  _see you tonight_ to him before.

“Of course,” L said. “See you tonight.”

He hung up and pocketed his phone, then opened the hotel room door and went back inside. 


	2. i'm going to marry you one day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uhhhh. yeah. sick. this one is the second one i did.

As he sat, the pink vinyl on the seat squeaked underneath L’s weight. There was just enough room between the seat-back and the table for him to bend his legs up but the table’s edge still dug into his knees. Across from him, Light texted and, while his eyes were blank, a pleasant smile lingered on his mouth.

“Why did you say that thing to Takada earlier today?”

“Hm?” One thumb continued to text as Light glanced up to meet L’s gaze. “What do you mean?”

“You told her, ‘I’m going to marry you one day.’” L took five sugar packets out of the condiment caddy and ripped open the first one into his tea. It spilled over into the cup and when it finished, he tapped the packet so that one last sugar crumb fell out. “I didn’t realize Light was so interested in her. She must be very special.”

“Oh. That.” Light’s smile thinned. “It didn’t mean anything. It’s just one of those things people say, you know?”

He hadn’t touched his coffee. Instead, he put his phone down and propped his chin up on his hands. When L ripped open his third sugar packet, Light closed his eyes and inhaled.

“That’s an awful lot of sugar,” he said and opened one eye just to give L a disappointed look. “You’re going to ruin the tea. This place makes it pretty good so you really don’t need all that extra stuff.”

“This is how I always have my tea.” L set down the now empty sugar packet and picked up another. He didn’t look at Light as he did it but his movements slowed in a pointed manner. Rather than see the discomfort on his face, L savored the shift in atmosphere that came with ruining Light’s mood. “Perhaps you should try it some time. I’ve found it improves my brain activity by forty percent.”

“I’m sure.”

“Does Light often tell people he’ll marry them?”

There was a single second of silence before Light rolled his shoulders back and made a small  _tsk_  noise. All that betrayed his surprise was a single twitch from his pinkie but L caught it still. He swirled his spoon through his tea which was dangerously close to splashing out the side.

“I was just being funny,” he said. “Sometimes people say things just to be funny, you know that right, Ryuga?”

“Maybe Light just isn’t good at being funny.”

A switch flicked on behind Light’s face and when L looked at him, something ugly looked back. Rather than his usual pleasant, blank expression, an deep unhappiness seeped from Light’s features. Behind his eyes, wheels clicked and ground against each other and L watched it all in fascination. Did he know what he looked like?

 _Hurt_ , L thought.  _You look quite hurt, Yagami_.

“I’m very funny.” Light said. His words were stones dropping from his lips. “Lots of people have said so.”

“Mm,” L hummed. “Maybe they were just being nice. Then again, maybe we just don’t have the same sense of humor.”

“Maybe we don’t.” Light took up his coffee and stared at L over his cup’s rim. “But I’m sure we can still be friends.”

“Of course.” His spoon tapped on the side of his cup and L removed it in order to stick it in his mouth. “You know, Light, I could marry you one day.”

Light coughed and his eyes went wide. Coffee spitted onto the table in flecks of brown and he hastily grabbed a paper napkin to mop it up.

“Why would you say that?” Light’s voice cracked.

“Well,” L said. “There are times when you do things and I think you don’t realize them. But I like it best when you don’t know what you’re doing.” He paused and then sipped his tea. “Also, I was making a joke.”

“Seems that you’re not very funny either,” Light said. He took a deep breath and his face settled back into plainness.

“I guess I’m not.” L shrugged. “Would you marry me anyways?”

Light laughed, a hollow sound like paper being shuffled.

“Yes,” he said and L froze. The cup in his hand shook as he processed the answer. Here he was again, caught off guard. As he grasped for a clever response, he thought of what he must look like and imagined it was remarkably similar to how Light looked just moments before. Little gears turning and turning against each other with their movements all painted on his face. Then Light laughed again.

“Only if you beat me at tennis.”

His smile was saccharine. It made L’s teeth vibrate with sudden aggressiveness. He bit back on the urge to reach out and knock Light’s coffee onto his shirt. As he rubbed his fingers together, trying to distract himself, Light’s phone buzzed.

“Oh.” He flipped the phone open and scanned the text. “Looks like my mom wants to know where I’m at. Must be dinner time.” One hand searched beside him and grabbed his coat. “Sorry to cut our time short but I’ll see you in class tomorrow, eh Ryuga?”

“Yes,” L nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

Light folded his coat over his arm and left. As he walked away, L went back to his tea but stopped halfway in his move to pick it back up. He hesitated and then took another sugar packet. Pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, he ripped it open only to have it split too fast and scatter sugar all over the table.

“Shit,” he muttered. With one long sweep, he pushed all the sugar onto the floor. While he did so, the bells on the cafe door jingled as Light walked out side and L wondered if it was cold outside, if Light would have to wear his coat home.


	3. what happened to your hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some nail biting.

Light slept on left side of the bed on his stomach with one hand tucked under his pillow. Dreams didn’t lift him to sleep. Instead, he floated in a sea of darkness without a single thought until dragged back into the world by someone grabbing his hand. He jerked up and his first vision out of sleep was L’s face.

“What are you doing?” Light pulled his hand away. It felt hot from how hard L had gripped it.

“What’s happened to your hands?” L peered down at Light. His face was lazy, mouth moving as though the effort of speaking were mountainous.

“Nothing,” Light said. “Nothing is wrong with my hands.”

“Hm.” In a flash, L took Light’s hand again and pressed his thumb hard into the center of his palm. Light hissed and squeezed his eyes shut. His fingers flexed outward from the sharp shock of pain. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with Light’s hands. Something’s happened to them. Look again.”

Light opened his eyes slowly to take in the dark room. Blue shadows drew over every inch and made the bags under L’s eyes deeper, more foreboding. Even without light to define his features, the arrogant slant of his nose and frantic fray of his hair stood out. The collar of his shirt hung low and Light’s eyes caught the curve of his bones stretching skin.

Then his gaze turned to his hand in L’s hand. The ridges of his knuckles rose and fell while he tried to pull away from L’s tight hold. Sayu teased him sometimes about his hands, how big they were and how delicate his fingers were. They weren’t his best feature but he took care of them. Yet as L’s nail dug into the flesh of his palm, Light saw what L saw: his fingernails. Their usual smooth oval shape was jagged and the skin around them was red, irritated.

“What happened?” L’s tone was flat but Light listened to him talk too often not to hear the interest underneath. “Are you biting them?”

“Wouldn’t you know if I were biting them?” Light snapped. “You spend every minute with me. You expect me to believe you really don’t know?”

“Yes.” The nail in his palm lifted and instead started to rub small circles over the wound. “I suppose Light’s right. You’ve been biting them for a week now, haven’t you?”

“And if I have?” Sleep hadn’t quite left his voice yet. “Let me go. Let me go back to sleep.”

L released his hand and Light snatched it back. He held it close to his chest, fingers searching out and feeling over the little crescent mark L’s nail had left. His eyes shut and he imagined himself back in his bed at home. The door to his balcony would be opened a sliver so the wind could get in and brush against his face while he slept. Sayu one door to the right of him and his parents two doors to the left with Light square in the middle.

“Interesting that you’ve started biting them now,” L said. The covers rustled under his movements and the bed creaked when he came to lean down into Light’s space. “What do you think that means, Light?”

A cool pressure brushed his forehead and Light opened one eye. L pushed his hair out of his face, fingers just touching his scalp. His hand came to rest against the side of his face, the bony base of his palm digging into Light’s cheek. There were a thousand parts that made up Light’s entire existence and right then, they were all on fire.

“If you’re going to say something about me being Kira, you’re better off keeping your mouth shut. I’ll punch you again. I don’t care if we’re in bed.”

“Light is so mean to me.” L put his thumb underneath his eye and tugged downward until Light opened it. “He’s never this mean to anyone else.”

“No one else handcuffed me to themselves,” Light said. “Or put their fingernail into my hand.”

“You shouldn’t bite your nails,” L said. “It’s a bad habit. I’d hate to see Light ever pick up a bad habit.”

He took his hand away and Light’s head followed it until he caught himself. The whittled down thud of pain in his hand kept him from reaching out to touch L back. He wanted to. He wanted to feel what that skin felt like. He wanted to make sure he was human. Covers lifted as the other man laid himself down and Light watched L burrow himself within them.

“I do it when I’m nervous,” he said. “That’s all.”

“Is Light nervous now?” L didn’t turn back to say this to him.

“I don’t know.”

“You should figure that out.” L’s fingers curled into the comforter and tugged it until Light was only covered by the sheet. Without the comforter, the handcuff chain stood out like a snake slithering between them. It wasn’t cold in the room but Light still shivered. He lifted his finger to his mouth and chewed on a hangnail, waiting for the little drone of L’s snoring so he could go to sleep himself.


	4. your laugh is so adorable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> light has a big laugh

On the coffee table, Watari set out three tea cups and a tiered platter of sweets. Tiny tea cakes, truffles and macarons ringed the edges of each plate in a variety of colors. The second the platter touched the table, L reached out and took a pink macaron between two fingers. Misa huffed and threw herself back into the couch cushions.

“It’s not fair,” she said. “How can Light and I talk with you sitting there munching? C’mon, Ryuzaki. Just give us a few minutes.”

“Hm.” L broke the macaron in half and scattered pink sugar dust onto his jeans. He tilted his head back and dropped one half in his mouth. “No.”

Watari poured from an ornate teapot and filled L’s cup near the brim. He moved to do the same for Misa and then Light, who stopped him by putting a hand over his cup.

“No thanks,” he said. “I’m not going to have any.”

“Are you sure?” Watari pulled the teapot back.

“Yes. I’ve had too much coffee today and I don’t think tea will help. But thank you.”

“Light is very concerned about how much caffeine he consumes,” L said, crumbs smeared at the corners of his mouth. “It’s very annoying.”

“I don’t care what you think.” Light gave a sharp exhale and crossed his arms. “Too much caffeine makes me jittery. You should think about cutting back too.”

L rolled his eyes and shoved the other half of his macaron into the side of his mouth. Chewing with exaggerated slowness, he started to put sugar cubes into his tea. He ignored the tongs next to the sugar bowl and took the cubes between his fingers. A little tower formed in his cup that teetered as he added more cubes.

“Caffeine increases my deductive skills by eleven percent,” he said. “It’s suspicious that Light would want to decrease these skills by suggesting I forgo caffeine.”

“Light is just concerned for you,” Misa said. She sighed and gave Light a dreamy look which he missed. Attention taken up by glaring daggers at L, there wasn’t much else he noticed. “How can you think he’s Kira? He’s such a good friend to you.”

“He’s punched me in the face.” L knocked his sugar tower down. “Twice.”

Looping his forefinger through the handle, he lifted his cup. As L brought it to his lips, Light made a tsk sound and fingers twitched at the loud slurps of tea he took. His hand shot out and smacked the bottom of L’s cup. Time moved in slow motion as L’s eyes went wide. Tea splattered up and covered his face, dripping down onto his shirt until the light brown liquid seeped into the white fabric. Silence shocked the room as though all the oxygen had sucked out. Misa made a choking noise, hand over her mouth. Then Light started to laugh.

The noise was like the rattle of knives in a kitchen drawer and it was loud. Light’s head shot back as laughter peeled out of him, arms wrapped around his stomach. A whistle wound in-between his voice that grew worse as he laughed more. Eyes scrunched shut and body shaking, he was incandescent with joy.

As he settled down, he opened his eyes and saw both Misa and L staring at him. A weak huff escaped him, mouth almost sore from excessive use. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes and he wiped them away. Tea dripped off the tip of L’s nose but his attention was focused on Light’s trembling sides, on his face flushed from exertion.

“Your laugh,” he started but Misa cut him off with her own exclamation.

“Your laugh is so adorable,” she said. “How cute! You should laugh like that more often.”

Light’s face and body froze over. His movements became slow as he sat up straight, put his arms to his side and un-crossed his legs. Misa’s smile cut across her face as she continued to espouse about how cute Light sounded. Beside him, L touched his wet face and looked away from Light. He licked tea away from his lips with an ugly sucking noise before motioning toward Watari.

“Could you get me a towel?” His voice was cool, too polite for him. “I might also need a change of shirt.”

Watari nodded and left the room. Between them, L and Light said nothing as Light reconstructed himself back to normal. He took a deep breath before turning to his side with an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Ryuzaki,” he said. “My temper got the better of me, I guess.”

“Light should try to get a handle on his anger.” L stuck his finger in his mouth and ran it over his teeth. He glanced sideways at Light, who breathed out a chuckle. It was dim and L had the urge to stick his arm down his throat to drag out the noises he now knew were inside Light.

“You’re right. Maybe it’s because I haven’t had any tea.” A conspiratorial tint filtered over Light’s face.

“Yes.” L still had his cup in hand and set it down. His bangs plastered themselves to his forehead. “Misa is right. Light’s laugh is adorable.”

He looked to the side just as a crack formed in the ice over Light’s face. Between the shards, there was a flash of someone cruel, someone angry. Someone wet with the blood of others. Light’s mouth creaked into a pleasant smile. L smiled back.


	5. well now i'm all wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shower scene

Outside of the shower, Light chewed his fingernails. One nail wedged between his teeth, he gnawed away while the soft noise of water sputtered beside him. He hated the weedy sound that his nails made when he chewed them. His other hand fidgeted on his knee and picked at the fabric.

“Are you almost done?” he said. The chain jingled and L peeked his head out. Light whipped his hand from his mouth and wiped it on his pants. A little of the water from the shower spit out onto him and he swore under his breath. Wet stains soaked into his khakis and sweater forming edge-less shapes.

“Nearly there,” L said. “Don’t chew your nails.”

“Shut up.” Light stared at his feet. “You’re taking forever.”

“If Light would prefer I remain dirty then he’s welcome to tell me. But I don’t think that’s what you want.”

Frowning, Light rolled his eyes and waited for L to shut the curtain before his fingers were in his mouth again. Anxiety rose in his throat. Earlier, when L had made him give an answer as Kira, his father gave him such a look: a concerned look but one that spoke to a small fear of him. For him. The longer the investigation went on, the more doubt began to crop up in everyone’s faces when they looked at him. It was like he’d never left that prison cell, like a gun was still pointed at his head. At that thought, Light choked and he bit down on his finger.

“Shit,” he hissed. Skin sour with teeth marks, he waved his hand in an attempt to throw the pain away. L’s hand shot out from the shower and gripped his wrist. He swept the curtain aside and stared at Light, wet fingers affixed to his skin.

Water pelted  Light in the face but he hardly noticed. When he imagined L naked, which he did more than he liked to admit, his body was thin as a spindle and ghostly. Yet now confronted with the real thing he saw more curves. His arms were defined and his shoulders were broad but sloped off from his hunch. Ribs showed through thin, pale skin but his stomach still carried a pocket of fat that softened his abdomen’s edges. Hair trailed down from his navel until it became thicker toward his crotch. Light glanced and saw a flash of L’s dick before shooting his gaze elsewhere.

Blinking rapidly, Light looked at L’s face and wished he hadn’t. Dark eyes pinned him to a corkboard and brought tweezers to his brain, to the delicate thoughts he hid under. .

“Every time you chew your nails,” L said, “my suspicions of you increase.”

“What?” A dry, scratchy feeling grew in the back of Light’s throat. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Water dripped down his face and L’s eyelashes clumped together. “I suppose that’s for me to decide.”

“That’s unfair. I’m obviously nervous because I’m under investigation. You can’t fault me for being upset when I’m under such extreme circumstances.”

“Light has never been inconvienced like this before, has he?” L rolled his shoulders but didn’t let go of Light’s hand. Instead he tugged him closer until he had to stand up. He was a step away from falling into the shower. An unhappy warmth grew inside him like a weed trying to destroy a sidewalk and his eyes darted across L’s face. All of it made his blood sing in a unnerving harmony. “You don’t know how to deal with difficulty. It’s never been presented to you. Perhaps Light should take this as a learning experience.”

“Let go of me.” The knife in his voice gleamed under L’s stare. “This is inappropriate, Ryuzaki.”

L released his wrist and Light took several steps back, as far as the chain would let him. The quiet patter of water hovered between them. Then L shrugged and pulled the curtain back across. Only his silhouette showed and Light couldn’t even look at that.

“Light is right,” L said. “That was rude of me. I apologize.”

“Alright.” Light rubbed at his wrist, tacky from L’s wet fingers. His heart felt hot with something like excitement and something like shame.

“I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable.”

“Well.” The fabric of Light’s sweater clung to his midsection. “Now I’m all wet.”

“How unfortunate. I’ll be finished in a minute and then Light can take his shower.”

Sitting back down on the toilet seat, Light raised his hand to his mouth but stopped. A thought, ugly and shining, raised to the surface of his mind: L’s hand around his hand. The flex of his muscles as he held his wrist so tight like he didn’t want to let go. He lowered his hand to his knee and rolled the thought around and around until it became a smooth stone, ready to be thrown across a lake.


	6. you own my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> talking on the phone while watching tv

Light came around the corner from the stairs and caught a glimpse of the television. Sayu’s drama was still on but near the end. Some idol he didn’t know the name of held his lover’s hand and looked earnest. A chuckle fell out of Light.

“What are you watching?” He folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “This stuff is going to rot your brain even more than it is already.”

Sayu looked over her shoulder to glare at Light. Her hands were fists and even her hair seemed balled up, fizzling from excitement.

“Shut up!” On the screen, the characters, a man and a woman, sat in chairs across from each other with placid, almost dream-like expressions. They were dolls, barely acting their way out a paper bag. “I’ve been waiting weeks for these two to get together so you can either be quiet or go back to your room.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Light sat down on the couch next to Sayu and didn’t speak. Instead he scoffed at every line. A low light was the only thing illuminating their living room and the television speakers blared every part of the conversation. Sayu threw her hand over his mouth after the third tsk he let out and Light wrestled it away.

“This is the good part,” she said. “So don’t be a jerk.”

 _“You’ve captured me in every way,”_  the man said.  _“There’s nothing I could do but fall in love with you.”_

 _“I feel the same.”_  A soft smile held the woman’s face captive. Light rolled his eyes and behind him, Ryuk crowed something unintelligible. There wasn’t any nuance to these performances, nothing that felt staked in reality. Was this what passed for entertainment? He nearly hummed his displeasure but caught sight of Sayu’s hands tight on her knees. The sound shrank.

 _“No matter where you go I’ll find you.”_  A deep breath proceeded the man’s every line as though he needed the extra air for the mediocre dialogue.  _“We’re connected, you and I, by our thoughts and feelings.”_

A plinking tune vibrated in Light’s pocket and when he took his phone out, earning another of Sayu’s glares, the number was L’s. What was he thinking calling so late in the evening? Their last meeting had been three hours ago. Maybe he had some evidence he forgot to give Light. Whatever. L didn’t have anything to tell him that Light didn’t already know.

Although, he began to surprise Light more and more. The lengths L would go to in order to trip him up were extensive and interesting. Even during mundane conversations like the kind they had in-between classes were rife with jabs. Whenever they spoke, Light felt the sharp of L’s nails digging into his thoughts, his feelings and their sting shocked him enough to let pieces rip away. He couldn’t let him hold anymore of Light than he already did.

“Hello?” Calculated disinterested lined Light’s voice. Chewing noises smacked over the phone and Sayu hit him again.

“Don’t talk so loud!”

Unable to stifle the impulse, Light stuck out his tongue at her and received a similar response. He pressed the phone closer to his ear and swung his legs up on the couch. Stretched out with legs crossed at the ankle, he listened to L chew for a few more seconds before he spoke.

“Are you just going to eat over the phone all night?”

“No.” L swallowed and sniffed. “What is Light doing right now?”

“Watching some silly thing with my sister,” Light said. “Why? Do you need me to come over?”

“So eager to see me?”

The hair on Light’s arms prickled at L’s amused tone. His teeth gritted but he let out a breathy laugh. Sayu gave him a funny look but said nothing. Something happened on the television and distracted her. Ryuk was quiet as well. Eyes trained on the screen, he played a captivated audience member.

“Very funny, Ryuga.” Light said. “I just don’t see why you’re calling me so late at night. Have you got something to say to me that you didn’t already?”

“Perhaps I’d just like to talk to Light more,” L said. “Does that bother you?”

“Of course not.” A peculiar rumble went through Light’s stomach and he felt both weightless and heavy. This was an obvious attempt to bait him. Any show of frustration would be interpreted as Kira-like aggression and there wasn’t room for anything like that. Yet something in the way L spoke made him feel some kind of way. It was such a way he was reluctant to name. He shifted until he settled deep into the cushions and thought about his next words. “I enjoy talking to you. But I doubt that’s the reason you called.”

“You’re wrong.” L’s voice moved in lazy waves as he kept on. “What show is Light watching?”

“I have no idea,” he said. “It’s my sister’s show.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s bad.” Light rolled his eyes over the television screen where the man and woman started to kiss. Their mouths smashed against each other’s. His lip curled. “I just don’t understand these romantic shows.”

“Perhaps Light has never been in love,” L said. “And that’s why you don’t enjoy romance.”

“How would you know if I’ve ever been in love?” A stab of offense rippled through his voice and a heat rose beneath his collar. Who did L think he was to speak to Light like this? Sayu gave him another look, this one colored with confusion. He barely noticed except to wave a dismissive hand at her.

“Your eyes.” L’s tone was flat but curious. There were his nails under Light’s skin again, pulling for another scrap of him. “They don’t have the look of someone who’s been in love. Light should work on that.”

“Oh?”

“It doesn’t look good to have cold eyes,” L said.

Cold eyes? There was no way Light’s eyes were cold. Already an itch to go to the mirror started in his mind. Another smatter of chewing noises echoed over the phone. That bastard. Eating while he was on the phone? Light could throttle him.

“That’s not very kind of you.”

L scoffed through a full mouth and on screen, the man pulled the woman down to the floor.

“Kindness isn’t my aim,” he said.

“I think I have to go,” Light said. His fingers were freezing and he folded one hand into his armpit to keep it warm. L hummed with a soft, almost imperceptible note of concern.

“I hope I haven’t offended you. I don’t mean to be cruel.”

“No.” His voice was an egg shell–empty and breakable. “You haven’t. Sayu’s show is on and I don’t want to talk over it anymore.”

“Of course. Well, enjoy your show as much as you can. I’ll see Light tomorrow at class.”

“See you then.” Light shut his phone before L could say anything else. The man curled into the woman’s shoulder and spoke into her skin.

 _“You own my heart,”_  he said and Sayu swooned. But Light didn’t see what happened and he couldn’t hear it either. All his thoughts held tight to what L said. He let the words run around until their footprints embedded themselves into him. A sickness spread its way through his chest like a spider’s legs. His concentration broke when a hand brushed his foot and he jerked it back, almost hitting Sayu in the thigh.

“Hey.” Her tone was soft. “Who was on the phone?”

“Just a friend,” he said. The line of her mouth went slant and she patted his leg.

“You’re just really worked up,” she said. “Must be some kinda friend, huh?”

“Yeah.” Cold eyes. Cold eyes. Cold eyes. “Yeah, they are.”


	7. thanks for nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its raining

Painted outside the window was a thick grey sky blurred by rain as it hit the glass. L tucked his hands into his pockets, chain jingling as he did.

“What does Light think about rain?”

Beside him, Light sat in a single sofa seat with a book. When L tried to read the title, Light moved his hand to cover it.  The chain jingled again as he turned a page and glanced at L. His long fingers rubbed the page corner andd flexed over the book’s spine. A long pause strung itself out between them with their eyes trained on each other. The rest of the task force had left for the day and they were alone except for the whine of every computer.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I guess it’s a little depressing.”

“Hm.” L pressed his thumb to his bottom lip. “You’re probably right. But I enjoy the rain. People say it’s cleansing.”

“Oh, really?” A tone of pure boredom underlined Light’s response. This drawl was cut by a slight grin. “Don’t chew your nails, Ryuzaki.”

“I’m not. I’m only resting my thumb here. Light should be more observant.”

Light let out a gargled scoff and rolled his eyes. His book dropped into his lap, forgotten, and he hiked himself up from the slouch he’d fallen into.

“This is ridiculous,” he said. “Does my not liking the rain make me more or less like Kira?”

“There’s no more or less Kira to be.” L turned his attention back to the rain. “You either are Kira or you aren’t.”

“Well. Which am I?”

“That’s what these are going to tell us.“ Hand raised, L shook it to indicate the handcuff around his wrist. Another ugly noise escaped Light and he dropped back into his chair. He crossed his arms and folded one leg over the other. His hands fumbled with his book until he had it open again. A frown curled his lips.

“I lost my place.” L hummed in acknowledgment while Light flipped through the pages and scanned for where he’d left off. “Oh, whatever. It’s not worth finding it again. The book’s not even that good.”

“It’s not like Light to give up.”

“I’m not giving up. I’m just sick of reading these dull books. I wish you’d let me bring my DS.”

“We couldn’t allow you to go back home after your captivity.”

“You mean after my first captivity.” Light turned a sour look on L, who didn’t respond besides an imperceptible tightening of his hand into a fist. “Or do you think this is just a fun vacation for me?”

His eyes were hard on the side of L’s face. They cut holes there trying to leave a scrape, a wound on him. Tilting his head to the side, L met Light’s gaze. A moment passed and the two moments until silence became a wall between them built upon bricks and bricks of unhappiness. Rain skittered on the window pane like fingers begging entrance. Light broke away first and reached to his mouth before letting his hand fall to his thigh. He felt L’s eyes rolling over him, calculating every angle at which he held himself.

“Perhaps we should ask if your father will bring your DS here.” L walked away from the window and tugged Light out of his seat. The momentum caused was sharp and Light collided with his back. Both of them knocked each other to the floor with Light stuck half curled around L, one arm pinned beneath his weight and the other one flung to the side. Heat flew to his cheeks. Next to him, L’s eyes were wide and darted around in wild surprise. The hem of his shirt rode up and his stomach, just on the edge of pudgy, caught Light’s unfortunate attention.

“Ow.” Light whispered. Every nerve he had was at war with each other in bright conflict. His body screamed from so much contact, so much touch, after weeks of nothing. L started to get up, forgetting he was tangled in the handcuff chain, and was jerked back to the floor. He lay there, hand on his chest and eyes to the ceiling, while Light held back an ocean of complicated thoughts.

“Well,” L said. “I’ve made a miscalculation as to my walking speed. I apologize, Light.”

“Yeah.” Light spoke into the floor with cheeks still stained red. “Try to not drag me around anymore. That might help.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind for the future.”

They both began to quietly untangle themselves. L moved with a strange gentleness as he assisted Light up from the floor and that gentleness struck Light like a lighting bolt through a tree. He hated this feeling. A loathsome and oppressive air surrounded that feeling although inside that air a pleasant glow still shone. That anything good should be felt in L’s presence offended him entirely.

“Are you alright then?” A single finger touched his hand and Light jumped back. “I did mean what I said. I’ll have Watari ask your father if he can bring Light’s DS.”

“Thank you.” Attention swallowed by his embarrassment, Light saw only the tilt of his own body. L started to walk away and he trailed after him, careful to keep within a few steps of his pace. He lurched when L sat on the bed and picked up the phone.

What followed was mumbled conversation that Light heard none of. His thoughts were caught up in their own shame. How dare he have such poisonous excitement over the sight of L’s skin, over the idea of his physical existence, after he demolished so much of Light. This was the man who put his father’s gun against his head and let him pull the trigger. The fingers that touched him were the fingers that snapped a handcuff around his wrist and locked the door to every room they entered so Light couldn’t run. So he wouldn’t get away. Light must’ve been sick to ever think a single sweetened thought about him.

“Ah,” L said. “Alright. Well, try again in the morning then.”

Phone pinched between his thumb and forefinger, L dropped it back onto the dialer and gave Light an apologetic look.

“I’m afraid Watari was unable to get a hold of your father,” he said. “So we’ll have to ask him tomorrow. Light will have to make do with the books we have for now.”

“Mm.” A brattiness rose in Light’s throat. “Well. Thanks for nothing, I guess.”

“Light is being difficult.” L spoke with a drag to his voice but the corners of his mouth were sharp. “Is it because I made you fall?”

“No. The rain is making me tired.” Picking at a thread on his sweater, Light yanked on it until it broke free. “You said that the rain is cleansing?”

“I said that there are people who say that.” Curiosity flickered in L’s expression. “I don’t know anything about that myself.”

“Huh. Well, that’s–” Thunder cracked outside and  its echo covered over the second half of Light’s words. He cleared his throat and tried again. “That’s interesting. To think about, I mean.”

“Indeed.” L looked at Light, whose thoughts were tied up in ideas of rain and of touch. “I’m sure Light thinks about many interesting things.”


	8. i mourn your absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> misa finds something in the bathroom

Misa yanked on the bathroom door knob but the thing didn’t budge. From outside, she heard thin noise without definition and, even when she pressed her ear to the door, there was nothing she could make out. With a tentative hand, she knocked.

“Light? Are you in there?” Nothing answered her but from a faint scuffle she knew he was inside. “What’s going on? Come out already.”

“I’ll be out in a moment.” His voice was strange, almost like a ghost of his actual voice. That happened sometimes; Light would speak in shades of himself and Misa hated it. She liked when his voice was clear and strong like a sword in sunlight. Heedless of his words, she jerked on the knob again.

“You’ll be late for work,” she said.

“I’m fine. Just go back to what you were doing.”

Misa paused, hand still wrapped around the knob and clutching it. This wasn’t the first time Light pulled this stunt. He often locked himself away in rooms and claimed to need some quiet. His office door never opened for her; she’d never even seen the inside of that room. Sometimes after they made love, he left the bed and her to work in there. A tremor of anger snapped through her. How dare he refuse her entrance and access to him? They were dating and in love. People in love let each other in.

On her tip toes, she reached to the top of the doorway and felt around until her fingers brushed against the key. Light must’ve forgotten it was there. As she jammed the key in, she prepared a smile to show him. How resourceful he’d think she was, how dedicated. The knob clicked and she swung the door open until it slammed against the wall.

At the door slam, Light’s head whipped up and his hair flew back, revealing his face to her. Around his eyes was raw, red skin and his lips curled back, tight across his clenched teeth. Features stretched out, she searched for a piece of her Light but found nothing. This was a creature in her bathroom, in her home, with eyes full of ugly longing. He scrambled backward like a crab and hit the bathtub. In one hand, he held something in a fist.

“Light?”

“Get out.” There were teeth in his voice. “Get out. Now.”

“What’s in your hand?” Misa came forward. A flare went off in her head as red as Light’s eyes that screamed for her to do as he said. Instead she dropped to her knees and tried to wrestle what he held away. He jerked it away and pressed it to his chest. Through his clutches she spied white cotton and a dizziness came over her. “What is that? Is that–”

“It’s none of your business.” Light ducked his head, hair covering up his expression.

“Is that his shirt?” Her tongue couldn’t turn around his name. They never spoke about him, about the detective, although Misa often saw him out the corner of her eye. There were lots of ghosts in their apartment but his was the one that showed itself. She saw him now, his spectral hands wrapped around her Light and pulling at his face. Those spider’s fingers tilted him into a stiff hunch and she knew that this was his fault.

“You shouldn’t keep that around,” she said. “It’s bad luck. It’s bad energy.”

“You don’t understand.” He spoke in small footsteps. “You don’t understand.”

“He’s dead. We got rid of him. You don’t have to be worried about all that anymore.”

A whittled noise slipped out of Light as he curled over the fabric in his hands. His shoulders hitched and shook while the noise grew louder. Misa watched him cry. Never had she seen him cry before, not in all the years they’d been in love. It struck her then how she should see him this way. Perhaps this was a place their relationship had to go in order to grow stronger.

“He’s dead.” Light’s fingers loosened and then tightened. “It’s not fair.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He should be here,” Light said. “He should see what I’m making. It’s not fair.”

“We don’t need him.” Misa made her voice warm and held out her hand to Light. “We have each other.”

He lifted his head and Misa looked in his eyes. Behind his gaze was a hole, tunneling further and further back until there was only darkness. Her hand shook when she saw it and its long spiral as though she stared down the path to hell. She knew that if she put her arm down the hole inside Light and grabbed, a thin, white hand covered in sugar dust would grab her back. A long, rictus smile crawled over Light’s mouth and he nodded.

“You’re right.” Her shoulders relaxed at the softness his voice had now. As he continued, she saw a wall shutter over the hole and his features convalesce into normalcy. “I’m sorry I snapped. Can you forgive me?”

The beast she’d seen when she opened the door softened as though someone had thrown a blanket over it. Beneath the thick glaze of kindness, Misa still saw the sharp shapes of that previous creature, wounded and crying.

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll always forgive you, Light.”

“Thank you.“ He chuckled in a weak, breathless tone. “How did you get in here?”

“I used the key.” Misa showed him the little yellow key between her thumb and forefinger. “See? I guess you forgot about it.”

“Wow. You really are smart.” Light held out the hand not holding the shirt and his eyes were wide, inviting. “Maybe you should give that to me so I can put it back later. I still need a little time.”

“Oh.” She hesitated but set the key in his palm. Ice shot through her veins as she did and he smiled again. Her eyes searched for reassurance in the corners of his mouth but found none. Instead, she imagined it was there. “Don’t forget to put it back above the doorway when you leave.”

“I won’t.”

Misa stood up, knees stinging from being on the floor, and walked out of the bathroom. She didn’t look behind her to see Light crumble. No. She didn’t listen to the low rumble of grief that started when she closed the door. She didn’t check the calendar date and didn’t peer around the hallway, waiting for a phantom to come around the corner with a chain around his wrist.

The next day, Misa stood on her tip toes and felt around on top of the door way. Her fingers touched dust and nothing else.


	9. wishful thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> staring out the window

Light propped his head up on his hand and considered whether or not to sleep in class. He didn’t want to be rude but the past few nights he’d been up late trying to schedule deaths. Having L around sparked a sort of desperation in him that made him forget his usual strict bedtime rituals. Besides, the class wasn’t anything he didn’t know and the professor didn’t create any sort of excitement in their curriculum. Light could’ve taught a better class in his current sleep deprived state.

Outside the second floor window, he spotted L as he wandered through the courtyard. As he traced the other man’s movements, the rest of the class blurred until the only clear thing he percieved was L crouching on a bench. Without thinking, Light started to doodle in the margin of his notebook. He drew a frog and gave it L’s hair. Looking down at his work, he allowed himself a tiny laugh. Something about L did strike him as amphibious.

While he watched L pull out a book and read, Light wondered what he was thinking. What sort of book was he reading? Perhaps when he saw L next, he’d ask after the man’s reading material. If he liked foreign authors, that might be a clue as to his country of origin although Light doubted L connected himself to any one place. He was made of a thousand shredded pieces of a painting and Light needed to reconstruct whatever the original image was.

From far away, there was a statuesque quality to L. The hollowness under his eyes, the sharp bend of his body and his ratty hair were all softened by distance. If only he looked that way at all times. Humming to himself, Light shifted so he was closer to the window. Warmth from the sun radiated through the glass and made him hot under his sweater. He could almost like L from way up in his classroom.

Sometimes Light entertained the idea of what he and L could’ve been. The unease that crept up in him only did so because of the Kira investigation and were that not the case, he imagined they might have been friends. Was friends the right word? Light rubbed his eye and frowned. His feelings about L were complicated. He often found himself wanting some kind of intimacy if only to pry deeper into that mysterious facade. But what kind of intimacy? Friendship seemed too superficial.

Light brushed his lips with hesitant fingers. What would it be like to kiss L? His cheeks burned. That wasn’t an option. Sure, he thought about having sex with L but that was normal, wasn’t it? Teenagers thought about sex lots of the time and he spent so much time around L anyway. He berated himself for entertaining the idea at all.

Still. He pictured how L’s eyes would go wide and then shut, mouth opening under Light’s. The tender yet rough way his hands would touch Light and move him into a deeper embrace. The brush of that long, wild hair against his face. A coughing fit hit Light and he couldn’t stop. When it died down, he realized that the entire class had their eyes trained on him, including the professor.

“Are you alright, Mr. Yagami?” The testy tone the professor took revealed his lack of actual concern.

“I’m fine.” Light’s voice was scratched on the sides but the reassurance was enough. Everyone turned back to the lecture and he was left alone to stare out the window again. With his previous thoughts faded into ghosts, he looked at L as dispassionately as he could. He examined him without the same wishful filter but couldn’t stop imagining kissing him. How unbecoming for the god of the new world.

Light clenched his fist and dug his nails into his palm. They cut crescent moons in his palms. Pain, small as a baby mouse, clawed through his mind and swept away L’s presence. He wasn’t thinking about that anymore. He wasn’t ever going to think of that anymore. Kira couldn’t be soft, not to the injust and not to those who opposed him.

Wind picked up the branches of the cherry blossom trees and blew the peaks of L’s hair forward. The rest of his body remained still. Light yawned. He really needed to get some more sleep.


	10. red ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sayu overhears a phone call

Sayu groaned and dropped her head to her brother’s desk.

“Don’t be that way.” Light crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes in his usual look of condescension. “You asked me to go over your essay and I did.”

Limply, Sayu held up her paper and pointed at Light’s million editing marks. Each one in his tiny, neat hand writing, red tributaries spindled over every page. She groaned again and shook the essay at him.

“You’re so harsh,” she whined. “Why can’t you just tell me to change my argument instead of doing all these comments.”

“Don’t you want to do your best?” With a lazy hand, Light gestured to the paper. “I’m just trying to help you. You don’t have to be such a baby.”

“I’m not a baby.” Sayu sighed and looked back at her essay. She smoothed it out on Light’s desk and stifled the stressed out whine in her throat. “Fine. Thank you. I guess I’ll go fix everything by which I mean  _rewrite my whole essay_.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have to rewrite the whole essay. Just most of it.”

“Wow.” Sayu slathered in her response in sarcasm. “You’re really giving me so much confidence.”

Light rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, probably to berate her even more. He was cut off when his ringtone went off. Startled, he pulled his phone from his pocket and then scoffed when he checked the name. He popped the phone open with his thumb and pressed it to his ear.

“Hello, Ryuga.” A strange, almost indulgent smile took over his face. His gaze flicked over to Sayu and the smile dissipated. He shook his hand at her to get out. Sayu nodded her head in exaggerated compliance and grabbed her essay. “No, no. I’m not doing anything. Yeah. I can definitely talk.”

Once she shut the door, Sayu pressed her ear to it. Light always talked to this Ryuga guy but she never even met him. She met all of Light’s other friends but Light didn’t talk to them on the phone nearly as much as this guy. When she tried to picture Ryuga, she just imagined Hideki Rygua since they had the same name. Wasn’t very fair of Light to be hiding such a cute friend from her. Squeezing her eyes shut as though that would improve her hearing, she tried to listen to the conversation.

“Do you need me to come over?” Light’s voice came through the door weakly so Sayu pressed against the wood harder. “Well, I just assumed that’s why you called. That’s usually why. Yeah. I guess friends do call each other for other reasons.”

He went quiet for a while and Sayu shifted. All this silence was boring. Her head lifted a half inch from the door before Light spoke again–now agitated.

“Don’t make fun of me.” His tone was the same restrictive tone he used when he wanted to yell but couldn’t. Sayu remembered it from when she broke a glass globe their dad had gotten him. “If you’re just going to be rude, I’ll hang up. It’s not like I won’t see you tomorrow.”

Sayu wished she could hear whatever Ryuga said. Nobody ever made fun of Light, at least she’d never heard of it happening. Everyone treated him with a delicate respect including her parents. Of course, she gave him a hard time but she couldn’t imagine someone actually making a joke at Light’s expense. Sucked back in, she crowded closer to the door and realized she’d missed a chunk of conversation.

“I’ve been working on the message but I’m not sure exactly what you want me to say in it.” Light tapped his pen to his desk. The rhythmic sound nearly covered up his speech. “I wish you’d give more direction. No, I don’t want you to tell me what to do. Anyway, you just think that I’m going to be good at it because you suspect me. Don’t try to deny it.”

Suspect? Sayu’s eyes widened. Why was Light a suspect? What was he a suspect of? Teeth set into her bottom lip, she thought of a million terrible crimes but couldn’t assign any of them to Light.

“I know,” Light said. “Yeah. I know you think of me as a friend. I liked our game as well. You’re a good opponent.”

Oh. Sayu remembered Light talking about playing a good tennis game. He only mentioned it in passing during dinner but he hadn’t played since middle school. Light was reasonably athletic but he didn’t make a habit of engaging in sports. She should have paid more attention and gotten more clues about Ryuga. Instead she had to listen through a door to half a conversation. Ridiculous.

“Would you like to get together sometime this week?” Light’s voice cracked over fake enthusiasm. “Not for the case. Just to talk. To get to know each other.”

Ah-ha! So Light didn’t really know Ryuga. That was why he hadn’t brought the guy over yet.

“Oh.” A whiff of defeat swirled in Light’s voice. “Yeah, I guess you are busy. Maybe after the case. Alright. It’s a date then.”

A date? Sayu raised her eyebrows. What did  _that_  mean? Fingers in her mouth, Sayu chewed on a fingernail and strained to hear her brother talk.

“Do you have to go?” Light sounded disappointed. “Okay. Yeah, we will see each other in class.” He paused and then his voice softened. “I look forward to it too.”

A long silence came after and then Light said a perfunctory goodbye. Nothing else? Sayu sighed at the anticlimactic end and then froze.

“Sayu?” Light had knives in his voice. “Are you out there? Were you listening to me?”

She winced and backed away from the door, almost dropping her essay as she jetted back to her room. Behind her she heard Light slam his door open and shout after her.

“Stop eavesdropping on me!”

“Sorry!” Sayu squealed as she shut her door. “I won’t do it again.”

Once inside her room, she slid down against the door and took a deep breath. Of course, she lied. Next time Light took a phone call, she’d have to listen. After all, what if Ryuga turned out to be cute? That was a mystery worth solving.


	11. sleeping dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> morning routine

The kitchen was quiet except for the kettle boiling. L sat on a stool and dangled his legs, unable to sit in his usual position because of how small the seat was. He swung his legs back and forth. His feet were white shutters in the dark of six a.m.

He enjoyed having mornings to himself. Light never woke up before seven and even then it took a cup of coffee and a shower for him to rejoin the waking population. In the morning, L could have his tea and think by himself. Not that he didn’t enjoy Light’s company or didn’t find it stimulating but. L had been alone for most of his life, baring Watari’s constant presence, and the brief return to solitude did him good.

The kettle started to make a peeping noise to indicate it was done. Hopping off the stool, L went to retrieve a box of tea. He selected a vanilla flavored black tea and used a tea cup with cats painted around the sides. It was a gift from Matsuda, who often sent both L and Light cat related gifts. L wasn’t sure how he kept getting their addresses but he suspected the Soichiro was to blame. He did have a hard time saying no to Matsuda.

Hot water slopped into the cup and the tea bag darkened as tea swirled out of it. While the tea steeped, L rummaged for a spoon, hoping the clatter wouldn’t wake Light up, and then found the sugar bowl. After three minutes, he heaped four large spoons of sugar into the cup and stirred. Then he took his tea to the patio.

Two wicker chairs with red cushions faced out into the garden. L climbed onto the one on the right, his usual seat, and took a sip while watching the first peak of sunrise. Sometimes he thought about how nice it might be to watch the sunrise with Light. To hold his hand and see him be bathed in the slowly growing orange and pink glow of a new day. Curls of steam pushed outward as L exhaled and hummed.

They’d been on a break from cases for a week now and his mind twisted around free time bizarrely. He started a lot of three thousand piece puzzles all at the same time and they littered their kitchen table. In between lounging and reading all the books they said they’d promised other people they’d read, he and Light fiddled with half done pictures of landscapes. L’s current favorite was a picture of a deep forest with a little cabin. He had a small fantasy about running off to live in a cabin in the woods and writing some long obscure novel. Light still didn’t know about it and L didn’t plan to tell him. Light liked being near the city too much to ever hide between pine trees.

L never learned how not to keep secrets. He suspected there would always be things he wouldn’t tell Light—always shut doors between them. His heart and mind were big old houses with dozens of locked doors as well as unlocked ones. For a few, he handed over the keys gladly to Light and let him air out the quiet truths inside. But others gathered dust in the dark, held back shrieking ghosts who made slime ooze form the walls. He knew Light kept some doors closed to him too. When they looked at each other, it was through the windows of their different bodies. Someday, though, L imagined they might become one large haunted house with hallways that lead into each other’s thoughts.

Until then, he’d let sleeping dogs lie and keep what secrets he could. Cold morning air snapped at his cheeks until pink rose on his skin. L took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was at home. He was in a place he could always come back to, looking at a garden that he made with a person who wouldn’t leave. If he made a mess, he would have to clean it up himself. If he wanted to fuck, he could go into the bedroom and ask. Things were good.

A tapping at the sliding door broke his thoughts and L looked over his shoulder. Light stood with a Garfield coffee mug in one hand and the other holding the newspaper. In an oversized To-Oh university shirt and blue sleep pants, he appeared still half asleep but smiling. He slid the door open and stepped outside, socks softening his footfalls on the wood patio.

“Morning.” He leaned and kiss L’s forehead. “What are you thinking about?”

“Houses.” L slurped his tea and grinned behind his cup at Light’s disgruntled face. “Open doors. Do you ever think about buying another house?”

“Do you not like the one we have now?”

“I think we should get another one,” L said. “Along with this one. Maybe one in the woods.”

“Maybe.” Light dropped into the wicker chair across from L’s. He took a sip of his coffee as L did the same with his tea. The mirror action made L’s skin roll with affection. A final puzzle piece snapped into place for his morning and he reached across the divide to tap Light’s hand. Without looking, Light turned his palm up and they locked fingers.

“I’ve been thinking of writing a mystery novel,” L said. Light snorted.

“You should.” Light squeezed his hand and gave him an indulgent look. “Make it an erotic one. That’d be fun.”

“An erotic mystery novel.”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“You might be onto something with that, Light.” The steam blurred L’s vision until he only saw smears of green, orange and pink. “I’ll have to think about that.”


	12. mangata: the roadlike reflection of the moon on the water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> light takes a bath

The bath water is cold but he still sinks down into it. Half submerged, Light’s reflection wavers and moves—a pale imitation of the real thing.

 _This is the reflection of god,_ he thinks.  _This is god’s face._

God looks tired. His toes stick up from the water and Light wiggles them. Even god has room for frivolity. For that reason, Light indulges in baths. The reason he rents this apartment is because he loves the bathtub. It’s deep and slants enough for him to lie back. Misa hadn’t questioned his decision. Her glass doll eyes stared back at him and parroted what she always said.

“Whatever you want,” she said. “As long as we’re together.”

He sinks further into the water and watches it crawl over his skin. All that keeps him company is plinking water from the faucet. Alone. He’s so blessedly alone. His mouth is underwater and if he moves even an inch, water gets in between his lips.

Light squeezes his eyes shut. On the back of his eyelids, he sees dull colors and the blurry outline of a hunched figure. He tries not to pull it into focus but the image sharpens until L glares at him. Or does he just look? Light can’t remember anymore what L’s expressions were and berates himself for not paying closer attention. He should know how he looked, how the angles of his face bent and held shadows.

L never let him take baths during his confinement. Always showers. Always efficiency. Thoughts of L’s naked body, pale and corded, come to mind and Light clenches his fist. Of course, he held onto those memories. Showering had been such a debacle with the handcuffs but L never relented. His pitch dark eyes glowed with an understanding that Light couldn’t match and he smiled. Light sees that smile like the glide of a razor into skin, cutting deep and welling up.

With a deep inhale, he catches his breath in his mouth, drops down and water swallows him. Weightless, his hair floats in a halo around his head and Light lets his eyes open. Underwater all he sees are the soft ideas of objects and water stings him. His ears clog and the world starts to echo. He shuts his eyes again as a shadow falls over him. It blocks the florescent bathroom light and he pops open one eye. A figure blurs and then sharpens. It’s his least favorite ghost.

Every time he appears, L grows more decomposed. Now his right eye hangs from its socket, red and crusted in dirt. Up the side of his face skin is eaten away and left hanging. Light starts to say something but his mouth only takes in water. A cough works up in his throat when phantom hands dive in and wrap around it. Water splashes onto the wall as L’s fingers dig into Light’s trachea with the skin on them worn so thin that the bones rub. His grip tightens and Light rocks against it. Squirming, he tries to grab hold on L’s forearms to pull him away but his fingers slip on the rotting flesh.

“How sad.” L’s voice is paper thin but somehow slices right into Light’s ear. “This is who you’ve become.”

Blue fades into the corners of Light’s vision and he struggles. Slopping over the rim, water shatters around his writhing body. Beneath his choked groans, he hears someone pounding on the door. He can’t stop looking at L. He can’t stop thinking about him and the hands around his throat sink him further down. With his own hands, he covers L’s and clutches them, pushes him harder into his neck. A loud sharp noise erupts from outside the bathtub and the pressure lifts.

Light shoots up and his hand flex toward dead air. Drenched, his hair hangs around his face like a damp curtain. An aggressive feeling of limpness overtakes him and he tilts his head to the side. Misa stands in the doorway, hair half up in curlers and in only lingerie. She’s got one stocking on. Her face flushes from concern and too much blush.

“Light!” She sounds sharp to his unclogged ears—a pin put to a balloon. “What’s wrong? You were making so much noise.”

“It’s nothing.” Light rubs a hand over his neck. He hopes for bruises. “I thought I saw something.”


	13. take a bath with me (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> handjobs in the bathtub

One strip of sunlight cut over their sleeping bodies and L blinked one eye open. Light’s body trapped his right arm underneath it and his left arm curled around Light’s waist, rubbing a gentle circle on his stomach. He looked over at the atomic clock on their bedtable where bright red numbers told him it was seven o’ clock.

Sinking his head back into his pillow, L flexed his right arm. It fell asleep sometime after Light tucked himself in against his chest and felt a little sore. Yellow lines appeared over Light’s still sleeping form and he wiggled closer to L. An irritated noise piped up and L grinned.

“Good morning.” He spoke into Light’s neck and kissed him on the nape of it. “Did the light wake you up?”

“No.” Light tugged the covers tighter around himself. “I’m still asleep. Don’t talk to me.”

“Ah.” The hand on Light’s stomach tapped in an arhythmical pattern and edged downward. “So you’re dreaming?”

Silence answered him and L slipped a hand into Light’s briefs. Two fingers pressed past the lips of his cunt and rubbed his clit. Light squirmed back against L’s chest and his ass was warm on his dick. Teeth set into L’s lip and he rubbed a little harder before sinking one finger inside Light. A deep curl of arousal wrapped around his guts and spread to his dick. He was hard and rocked into the soft of Light’s ass.

“You’re not being fair.” Light’s voice was hot with hard breathing. “Fuck.”

“You sound good when you swear.” L pumped his finger in erratically, pace impaired by it being done with his non-dominant hand. “Is this a good dream? Do you want me to keep going?”

Light ran a hand down L’s arm until it slipped into his underwear. He gripped L’s wrist and pushed him in deeper. At the back of his throat, L choked on a groan as Light started to control his hand, fucking his fingers into himself hard. Moans spilled out of Light and soaked into the pillow. Despite not seeing his face, L imagined the pink flush, the slack jaw and the squeeze of his shut eyes.

“Can’t believe—,” Light took in a deep breath as L’s thumb brushed his clit. “Can’t believe I’ve got to fuck myself on your fingers. D—Do some work for once in your life.”

“Do some work?” Wrestling against the grip on his wrist, L pulled his fingers from Light and wiped them on the front of Light’s sleep shirt. “You’re one to talk.”

“What are you talking about?” Light squirmed and rolled over to face L. His cheeks were shiny and his bottom lip was swollen with teeth marks.

“Light is a pillow princess.”

“I am not.” Light’s mouth formed a pout that infected his voice. L snorted and the pout deepened. “Don’t laugh. Why would you say that?”

“You always make me do all the work.” L stroked a hand on Light’s pink cheek and dropped a kiss there. “I always go down on you and finger you and you hardly return the favor.”

“I thought you liked going down on me.” Light still held L’s left wrist and squeezed it, thumb rolling against the tendons. “You always talk about how much you like tasting me.”

“I do like it. But I also like getting my dick touched.”

With a huff, Light released L’s wrist and climbed out of bed. Cool air flew into his vacated spot and L shivered. He propped himself up in bed and watched Light head to the bathroom, walking in the tight way he did when he was still wet and unfinished. Over his shoulder, Light glanced and sighed.

“Take a bath with me?” The question floated and settled on L who considered the situation. He stretched his arms out with a loud pop. A lazy smile sloped on his face as he got up from the bed to follow Light into the bathroom, taking off his clothes as he went. Meandering around the sink while Light started to fill the tub, L took stock of his appearance. His hair was all bent out of shape from Light’s fingers torturing it when they’d had sex the night before. If he closed his eyes, the hard tugs repeated themselves phantom-like on his scalp.

“Are you just going to look at yourself all day?” One leg hooked over the tub rim, Light shot L a sharp look. “Get in the bath.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll never sleep with you again.” Light laid back and shut his eyes. Water crawled over him until he was half submerged. The outline of his body blurred. “So you’d better hurry up.”

“Mm-hm.” L started to climb in, tapping Light’s shoulder with his foot. Without looking, Light leaned forward so L could slip in behind him and wrap his arms around his waist. “You’ve never stuck to that threat, you know? At some point, it loses its power.”

“You got in the tub, didn’t you?” Light smirked. “Seems like it still works to me.”

The long expanse of Light’s back struck a horizon line and L traced a finger over his shoulders. Hands stretched wide, he gripped them and started to massage his fingers deep into Light’s muscles. A low hum started in response.

“How does that feel?” L dug his thumbs into Light’s shoulder blades and his dick twitched when Light moaned. “Are you relaxed?”

“Mm.” Dropping one shoulder, Light twisted out of L’s hands to face him. “Yeah. What about you?” Rough fingered, he took hold of L’s dick and gave it a long stroke. “Relaxed?”

L fidgeted as Light continued to stroke him with his mouth positioned right above L’s. Their lips brushed as groans hiccupped out of him. For a moment, his hands fluttered at his sides until they settled on Light’s hips. He pulled them forward until they rocked alongside the rhythm of Light’s hand. Meeting him in the middle, Light opened his mouth above L into a kiss. The slick glide of his mouth wormed excitement into L’s guts and he pushed up into the hand on his dick.

“You want me to do some work?” Light’s speech was wet against L’s mouth. “You want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes.” L’s grip on Light’s skin tightened. With a dry laugh, Light pulled back and rubbed his thumb of the tip of L’s dick. “Come back. I want to kiss you again.”

“Not yet.” A strong hand pushed L back until he was flat against the tub wall. Slowly, Light pumped L’s dick as the water around them splashed over the sides. He straddled one of L’s thighs and ground himself down on it. “I’ll kiss you after we both come.”

“You’re not playing fair.” Reaching up, L cupped Light’s cheek and pinched it. Frowning, Light turned toward his hand and nipped his thumb. “Hey. Don’t bite.”

“I think you like my teeth.” A bright white grin spread over Light’s face. His cunt rubbed harder on L’s thigh and he felt its slickness. He let his right hand wander over Light’s hip and down to the thin skin above his genitals. Returning Light’s grin, L dropped his hand and cupped Light’s cunt, lifting him a little ways from his thigh. “Ah. Now who’s not playing fair?”

“Still you.” L slid a finger against Light’s clit and swiped teasing circles around it. Light pressed into his hand and his hand stuttered on L’s dick. He started to move it faster as a sharp stab of arousal plunged through L. In retaliation, he pressed a finger into Light and worked it in at the same pace. “Are you close?”

“Almost.” Light’s voice creaked through clenched teeth. “You?”

“Extremely.”

Spindles of arousal grew sharper as Light pumped his dick and L shut his eyes. He teased moans from Light with every thrust of his fingers and brush of his thumb against Light’s clit. One long stroke up and all the spindles shattered through his guts. Orgasm brought red to L’s eyes and he clutched Light’s hip harder. He pulled on it and caused Light to fall forward onto his chest. They held onto each other, Light’s hair sunk deep into L’s hair. Sunk in deep, L heard Light cry out and pulse around his fingers. Greedily, he took his hand and grasped Light’s face, turning it into his for a kiss.

“Good?” Light came up for air, lips shining with L’s spit and eyes hazy. Two long slick streaks trailed after L’s fingers as he dragged them down Light’s cheek. He dipped a thumb into Light’s bottom lip and tugged on it.

“Perfect.” He dragged Light in for another kiss. “Just perfect.”


	14. you're easy to rile up (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dirty talk but its in public

On off days, where there weren’t any leads and Watari was back at Wammy’s, they liked to go out to coffee cafes. The place they were in at the moment was a larger establishment with a generous amount of booths secluded toward the back. Overhead hung string lights and paintings adorned the wall next to statements from the local artists who made them.

L’s attention divided itself between the women chatting in the booth behind them and Light. Across the table, Light fiddled with the menu open in front of him. Instead of reading it, he picked at the plastic edge until it grew frayed. The longer L watched him, the more he saw a shade of discomfort fall over his face every time he shifted in his seat. Interesting. One particularly lewd reason came to mind as to why Light was squirming and a thrill flared in L’s stomach at the realization. He dropped one more creamer cup onto the stack he built and reached over to Light’s hand.

“Are you alright?” A little grin grew on L’s face. “You seem uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.” Light spoke in a tight, short voice. He met L’s gaze with sharp eyes. “Just hungry.”

“Hm.” L tapped one finger to the back of Light’s hand. “Are you sure? It seems as though Light is experiencing physical discomfort.”

“Are you going to do this?” With an eye roll, Light flicked L’s hand away. His exasperated tone left L eager to push him again. “Really? In public?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Wide-eyed, L returned his hands to his knees. Light sucked in a hard breath and let it out slow. His fingers flexed and he leaned over the table, mouth drawn into a hiss.

“I’m sore,” he said. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Hm?” L blinked.  “Where are you sore?”

A ragged groan dragged out of Light and he buried his head in his hands. After a moment, he peeked out and started to speak in a low whisper.

“My fucking cunt is sore.” His voice rumbled with thunder. “It’s sore because of your stupid dick.”

“Didn’t seem like you thought it was stupid before.” L’s voice fell in volume and he saw Light’s skin roll from the sound of it. “Not when it was deep inside you.”

“Yeah. Well.” Balancing his elbows on the table, Light leaned up and over so he was closer to L’s face. Around them, the chatter of the café quieted until all L heard was the storm in Light’s words. “Do you want to know something?”

L loved that question. No matter what Light told him, he found it exciting information. Sometimes he told L about childhood memories and other times, well, he told him very different thoughts. Careful not to press his knees too hard on the table’s edge, L bent toward Light.

“What?”

“I’m still wet.” Light’s whisper poured out of his mouth like a cat stretching out of sleep. It curled around L’s mind until he fully understood what Light said. An image cut through him—Light shifting in his seat still slick from when L fucked him and his cunt aching from the stretch. Pink arousal flushed L’s cheeks the longer he thought about it. He met Light’s eyes and a smile glowed from them.

“You’re easy to rile up,” Light continued. “All I have to do is tell you how soaked I am and you go red faced. Does it make you excited to hear about this in a public place? You like it, don’t you?”

“I like to hear you talk this way. Especially in public places.”

“Oh I bet.” Hair falling in his face, Light’s cheeks matched L’s in dark color. “You like when I make you squirm. Do you want to hear something else?”

From the corner of his eye, L spotted their server approaching. He shot his gaze back at Light, who was still talking, and tried to signal for him to stop. But a brightness in Light’s eyes told him it was too late; Light wanted L to sweat. His teeth were sunken into the meat of this dirty talk and once Light tasted what he wanted, he refused to let go.

“I can still feel you pounding into me.” Light’s ass left the seat and he half climbed on the table. With one finger, he knocked over L’s creamer stack. “It’s like every time I move, you’re still inside me stretching me out. I can tell from your face you want to fuck me again. Say it. Say you want to fuck me.”

“Hello. Are you two ready to order?”

Light fell into his seat hard enough that his head cracked on the back. The sound was almost as disquieting as the humiliation in his eyes as he stared down at his lap. L tried not to laugh. With his dick hard and pressing against his jeans, he didn’t have any room to tease Light.

“I’ll have the black tea.” L turned to the server with what little cool he could pull together. “Along with a slice of the cherry cake and an orange zest scone. He’ll have the cinnamon latte.”

“Of course.” The server glanced between them with an indulgent smile. He left and, in his wake, the rest of the café swung their heads over to L and Light’s table. A long whine whistled out of Light as he sunk into his seat and dropped his head onto the table.

“Poor Light,” L said. “Looks like you got riled up too.”

“I never want to be seen again.” Light’s voice struggled out from under his bent head. “I never want to be seen or spoken to again.”

“Whatever you say.” Picking up his creamer cups, L started to stack them once more. “Do you want to know something?”

“What?” Light looked up wearily. L gave him a piercing grin in response.

“I do want to fuck you again,” he said. “More than once.”

Beneath the embarrassment glazed over his face, Light’s eyes shone with a sharp arousal and the corner of his mouth ticked up.

“Interesting,” he said. “How very interesting.”


	15. beg for it (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a very bad dream

Light folded his hands over his stomach and stared at the ceiling. Its lackluster cream surface was marred by a thin crack the width of hair strand. Beside him, Misa’s nose whistled in her sleep and she turned over to face away from him. Her sleep shirt touched his hip and he brushed it off. That delicate lace irritated his skin. God. He’d told her before not to wear that kind of lingerie to bed.

The crack reached with spider legs over the ceiling and Light traced its movement. When he blinked, the crack grew bigger. Whether this was a trick of his eye or an actual fact, he wasn’t sure. For the past week, he had the same vision of the crack which only came at night. In the morning the ceiling was as smooth as an untouched lake and Light thought maybe he dreamt the entire thing. Then the moon rose and the fracture appeared again.

A part of him enjoyed the consistency—every night the same apparition. Still. Light couldn’t stand the idea of a flaw no matter where it appeared. He tapped his fingers against each other before he huffed and got up. The bed shook as he lifted himself on tip toe to examine the crack. From close up, it was wider than he thought.

Curious, he dug his fingers into the small canyon of the crack. Underneath his grip, it split apart. At first, his fingers scrapped against dry tack but, as it widened, the crack started to drip thick, dark slime down Light’s hands. He tried to jerk them away but the slime followed. It slid down and hardened into a tightly gripped hand around his forearm. The more he pulled away, the more the slime dragged out until an entire figure, slick and thin, slopped out of the crack.

One hand stuck to the wall and the other grabbing Light, the figure perched itself above him. Features began to mold themselves onto its face until two completely white eyes popped out. They rolled forward until its irises showed and a long carnivorous smile cut across its face. Definition raised up a nose and sharp cheekbones until the face before Light snapped into familiarity—L’s face.

Light’s guts were dry with terror. No matter how hard he tugged, L wouldn’t let him go. In fact, his struggle amused him—that hideous smile growing bigger—and a spark of anger lit inside him.

“Let go of me.” Light ground his teeth but flinched when L leaned closer. A strong scent of decay radiated from his form as it dripped dark slime onto the bedsheets. That same slime soaked into Light’s sleep shirt as L hovered over him. He was a shadow, a wet and rotting shadow. “You’re just a dream.”

“I’m a dream?” L tilted his head and the points of his hair shifted with the movement. “Does Light dream of me often?”

“Go back into your hole.” Light spat, twisting his arm away from L’s hand. “You go back to your grave. You don’t have any right to be here. I won.”

A keening noise rose out of L and his grip on Light tightened. He dropped from the ceiling and pinned Light. Squirming against his hold, Light turned and tried to scream at Misa.

“Help—,” he scratched out but L’s other hand slammed over his mouth. Light clenched his lips together. The slink glide of slime still lingered over them and it slipped onto his teeth. Bitter and stinging, the taste made his tongue curl.

L tucked his thigh between Light’s legs and ground it against him. A horrifying pulse of excitement came over Light and he grabbed at the arm holding him down. His fingers sunk into the viscous surface.

“Are you afraid?” L asked. Light’s eyes were wide and his breathing heavy. “You can nod yes or no. Go ahead.”

Light shook his head no.

“Lying.” The hand over his mouth squeezed and a little more slime got past Light’s lips. “But I should have known you’d lie. I’ll ask you another question and this time, you tell the truth. Got it?”

After a sharp inhale, Light nodded yes.

“Are you aroused right now?”

Light’s eyes narrowed and he jerked violently under L’s body. As he did, he rubbed harder on the thigh between his legs and heat built in his cunt. A shriek was caught inside his throat like a trapped rat, and his nails cut into L’s slime covered arm. The smile on L’s face peeled back to reveal teeth yellow with decay.

“Tell me the truth,” L twisted Light’s forearm and a muffled scream bubbled from under his hand. “Don’t lie anymore. Are you wet right now, Light Yagami?”

Tears formed as Light nodded yes. The sharp pain in his arm distracted him but only just. His cunt warmed as L started to grind his thigh rhythmically against it. Light rocked his hips into the movement with twin feelings of horror and excitement splitting him open.

“You dream about me.” No question echoed in L’s voice. “You’re still dreaming about me. Even now, when you won, I’m still here. You’re so afraid to let me go. Well, here I am. Here’s what you wanted.”

Light pushed at the hand on his mouth. It held strong. Noises tried to get out of him but couldn’t claw past the seal of L’s fingers. He was on the edge of orgasm then L slowed his pace. Frustrated, Light undulated against the body above him but couldn’t get the friction he needed.

“Do you want to come?” His voice was the same as when he’d been alive—deep and flat—but now it was hollow as an empty coffin. Light nodded frantically and L slid his hand from his mouth. “Beg for it.”

Heat flushed Light’s cheeks and he coughed around the slime in his mouth. Without hesitation, he started pleading.

“Please,” he said. “Please. Please fuck me. I need it, L, I need it so bad. I need you.”

“Good boy.” Light’s skin rolled under the praise and L’s thigh moved again. A wispy moan floated out of Light as brightness built in his body. L was touching him. L was holding him. With eyes shut, Light could imagine a whole new body for L, one that smelled sweet. Louder sounds ripped from him pieces of skin and bone until he felt flayed alive—all for L.

As stars formed and his arousal peaked, L dropped his mouth to Light’s and kissed him. Chaste, only their lips brushed and Light screamed, body pulsing as he came. Slime poured into his open mouth from L’s and he choked on it. Rotten and sick ooze filled every crevice between his teeth and coated his tongue. L’s hands came up to grasp his face and hold him still until Light couldn’t breathe. A sliver of blue shaded the corners of his vision and grew larger and larger until a sharp stab in his side shot him up.

Straight backed and up right, Light sat in his and Misa’s bed. His mouth was empty. Around him, no slime or dead body seemed to be lurking. Instead, his body shook, covered in sweat and near hyperventilating. Beside him, Misa had rolled over onto his side of the bed with her arm flopped over across his lap. A nightmare. He had a nightmare. An almost uncontrollable fit of hysteria over came him and he threw up laughter into the quiet room. The sound was riotous. Sobs started to punch out of him at the same time until he couldn’t discern his crying from his laughing.

He sucked in a deep breath and clutched all his sharp thoughts together. With strong hands, he squeezed them until they snapped out of existence. A tentative calm settled over him and Light waited for his breathing to regulate. Once it did, he lay back down and rolled onto his back. He looked at the ceiling. A thin crack looked back.

“I won.” Light waited for a response but got none. He shut his eyes and waited until sleep took him into a dreamless ocean, devoid of anything at all.


	16. if these people weren't here, i'd be on my knees with your cock in my mouth (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little drinking and a little dirty talk

Warm cheeked and grinning, Light was half on his chair, half climbing in L’s lap. Hard rock blared over the bar speakers and a couple men across the way spilled their drinks. Around them, people looked surreptitiously away but L felt those eyes trained on him anyway. The vodka cranberry he nursed was watered down from ice melting and, while Light rubbed his face into his neck, L twirled his swizzle stick. He poked Light in the head with it.

“Hey,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Mm,” Light said. “I’m so good. I’m doing great.”

“You’re drunk.” L ran a hand through Light’s hair with an incredible fondness in his fingers. “Look at you. You’ve gone pink.”

“I’m not drunk.” A frown cast over Light’s face and he gripped L’s shirt front. “I’m only tipsy.”

“You always say that.” L rolled his eyes. “Yet you act like this.”

Light’s mouth tugged further down and he moved back onto his bar stool. Lingering still was sour sweet smell of his alcohol soaked breath and L wanted to laugh. The sticky quality to Light’s drunkenness amused him to no end. Meanwhile, Light picked his whiskey sour up and tried to drink it. He chased the tiny straw with his tongue as L looked on. A smile weaseled its way up his mouth and Light glared.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Leaning onto the bar, L propped his chin up on his hand and watched Light finally wrap his lips around his straw. His cheeks hollowed as he drank and his eyes went glassier. He wobbled when he looked up and his frown shifted into little grin. Legs kicking out, Light locked his foot around L’s calf and rubbed it there.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” He laughed, a fluid and unsettling sound. People at the bar looked uncomfortable but L’s heart fluttered. Light’s laugh grew in volume and kept on until he reached the rest of his thought. “I’m thinking about your dick.”

“Ah.” L shook his head. “So we’re at  _that_ point in the evening.”

“I love it so much.” A pebble sized moan dropped out of Light. “Feels perfect when you put it in me. Like it’s my missing puzzle piece.”

“How kind of Light to say.”

“Wish you could fuck me right now.” Rubbing his lips together, Light reached over to grab L by the shoulders. He wormed his way into L’s lap fully and some of his drink spilled onto L’s shirt. “Oh no. I got you wet.” He licked his fingers and started to rub the stain. “I’ll get it out for you.”

“That’s okay. I think I can handle a little stain.” L took Light’s hand by the wrist and led it away from his shirt. Gently, he set it back on his shoulder and Light slid forward. Arms wrapped around him, L warmed under Light’s embrace. “Oh. You’re awful affectionate tonight.”

“Yeah.” Light nuzzled L’s neck. “Hey. Wanna hear something?”

“Do tell.”

“If these people weren’t here, I’d get on my knees and suck your cock.” The words were pressed into his ear as Light’s mouth glided over the ridges of it. “You love to fuck my mouth, huh? Choke me on it?”

“Light.” L’s voice caught between his throat and teeth. His hands settled on Light’s waist with his thumbs dug into the soft of it. When he first started to touch Light, hardly any part of him had been soft which he supposed could also be said of himself. But now there was give when his fingers grazed Light’s skin. They grew fat off each other. “This conversation might not be appropriate for where we are.”

Light responded with a whistling hum and tapped L’s back.

“Then let’s go somewhere it’s appropriate,” he said. “Take me home, world’s greatest detective.”

L squeezed Light’s side but didn’t move. For a moment, he took in the weight of Light’s drunken body on top of his, the wheeze of his breath on L’s neck and his own buzzing inebriation. Sometimes, he doubted that the place he existed in was real—a real human really loved him. With one hand on the back of his neck, L turned Light’s face toward his.

“I love—,” he started but Light cut him off with a kiss. He swallowed the words and tightened his arms around L. When he pulled back, a tiny string of spit connected their mouths.

“I love you.” Light gripped L’s shirt and grinned. “Let me suck your cock.”

“Of course,” L said. “Of course.”


	17. fat L theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fat L theory means L is fat and there's nothing you can do abt it

“Does it bother you?” L’s hand comes to a halt in Light’s hair and his finger traces a circle against his scalp. Light frowns. He adjusts where his head is on L’s lap and pushes himself further into the meat of L’s thigh.

“Does what bother me?”

“My weight.” L’s voice is plain and without insecurity. His hand resumes petting Light’s hair and he brushes against his ear. A shiver runs through Light as though L flipped a switch inside him. He pinches L on the thigh and earns a hum of discomfort.

“No.” He takes a deep breath. “Anyway. What do you mean your weight? Is there something wrong with it?”

“I only mean to say that I’m on the larger side.” L places his other hand on Light’s arm and rubs his thumb there. “I’ve heard myself described as fat before. I’ve wondered for a time now if that bothers you—being with someone who’s fat. I know Light considers appearance important.”

“May I be honest?”

“Of course.” L lifts his hand from Light’s head and Light gets up. L’s other hand remains on his arm, keeping him close so when Light speaks, his voice is inches from L’s mouth. “I like it when Light is honest with me.”

“I don’t care.” Light puts his hands on either side of L’s face. His fingers sink a bit into their roundness and he swings a leg over so he straddles L’s lap. He bends over him until he blocks the overhead light—until he’s the only thing L can see. “I didn’t care before. I don’t care now.”

“I don’t quite believe that. You care about everything more than you should.” L’s hands slide to Light’s hips and hitch them up. His fingers are long, elegant in their thickness. They hook into Light’s pant waistband and skim the top of his briefs. “Don’t lie to me about this.”

“I know you’re fat. I know that because it’s true.” With his thumbs, Light pulls the corners of L’s mouth. He drops a chaste kiss there and grins. “Maybe I was lying. I do care about it because I like it so much.”

“Oh?”

“If you weren’t fat,” Light says, “you wouldn’t be so easy to touch. I’d cut my fingers on you.”

“Hm.” L steals another kiss and squeezes Light. He pushes his hands under Light’s turtleneck and press on his stomach. As he does, it curves underneath his palms and vibrates from Light’s gasp. “I think Light just likes being the handsome one.”

“I’m not so shallow.” Light’s voice cracks over his defensive tone. “I think you’re attractive.”

“That’s not the same as you finding me handsome,” L says. “There’s other reasons I think you find me attractive.”

“Really?” Light lets out a laugh that cuts the air into pieces. L’s eyes widen at the sound. He still isn’t used to hearing Light’s genuine laugh. “What do you think I find attractive about you?”

“My voice.” L scratches Light’s skin and enjoys the little inhale he gets in response. “My intelligence. My sexual prowess.”

“Your modesty too.” Rolling his eyes, Light takes his hands from L’s face and rubs them on his shoulders. He drags them down until they rest on L’s stomach. It protrudes from his sweater so a strip of skin shows. Dark hair trails down to the edge of his jeans and Light thumbs over it. “You missed one though.”

“What did I miss?” A grin answers L’s disgruntled tone. He doesn’t like being corrected even in jest. Light comes in close and presses his mouth to L’s ear.

“Your body,” he says. “Maybe you’re not handsome but I’m very attracted to your body.”

L stiffens under Light as he moves back to face him. His hands fly to Light’s cheeks and pull him down into a harsh kiss. It’s bright and sharp like the first taste of a sour cherry. Light makes soft noises into his mouth and squirms closer.

“I love you.” Light breathes the words out and L swallows them in another kiss.

“I know,” he says and squeezes Light’s face. “I know.”


	18. yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe i would

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drunk phone call from L to light

Light twisted a pen in his mouth and stared at his cell phone. It remained dormant and, fueled by some petty fancy, he knocked it to the side until it teetered on the edge of his desk. On his laptop was a half written case report that should have been delivered to the French two hours before. He ignored that device as well and instead gnawed harder on his pen. When he took it from his mouth, his teeth left plastic valleys that glistened with spit. He tossed the pen away.

A week—it wasn’t by far the longest time they’d been apart. No, that honor went to the three year pause after the Kira case and subsequent silence L had dealt him. Since then, neither of them spent much time apart besides the occasional day trip in order to air out after an argument. Yet the previous Monday, L jumped upon a case in America that he insisted he take alone and left Light to stew in their temporary house all by himself.

His skin itched but when he went to scratch at his arms, Light knew the action would do no good. He was caught up not in physical irritation but something unhappier. Even in the private quarters of his study, behind the quiet shut doors of his mind, he refused to name the difficult emotion that plagued him. He wondered if he should call his mother. She was good at puzzling out interpersonal conflict and wouldn’t make much of a fuss. Hm. No. Light was loathe to become the type of person who bothered their parents with complaints about their partner.

As his fingers inched toward his mouth, dangerously close to fingernail chewing territory, his cell phone rang out its familiar tune. Light snatched it and pressed the phone to his ear.

“Light?” L’s voice slid to the side when he spoke and Light saw, as though the man were in front of him, the scene—L with a bottle tipped over into his tea, breath reeking of sweet flavored whiskey. Light felt the itch spread at the thought of drunkenness being the facilitator for this call. “Hello?”

“Hello, Ryuzaki.” A sharp coldness cast itself over the pseudonym as though it froze Light’s tongue just to speak it. “How have you been then?”

“The phone line is secure,” L said. “You can call me by my name.”

“Forgive my caution,” Light snipped, “but I think I’ll continue to reserve that for our more private conversations.”

A long pause followed his statement along with the dreadful heavy plod of L’s drunken breathing. In the background, the mundane sound of ice cubes clacked and L drank noisily over the phone. The urge to hang up passed over him but Light stubbornly clung to the conversation. L let out a tired sigh and smacked his lips together.

“You’re upset with me.” He spoke with a plain tone, one that sounded much like how he spoke to unpleasant police officers. The sound of it spiked Light’s skin. To be treated like some common unsettled worker bee who existed only to be in L’s way sent a bullet hole between Light’s ribs. “I can tell.”

“I don’t think you should make inebriated phone calls while on a case.” Light moved to end the call. “I’m going. Good night, Ryuzaki.”

“Wait.” Under his monotone, L’s voice carried a reedy sort of whine. “Don’t hang up. I’ve called for a reason.”

“I’m sure it can wait.” Light rubbed his fingers together, wishing he hadn’t thrown his pen. He ground his teeth in the absence of something hard to chew.

“But I want to speak to you.” L sighed again and Light heard the squeal of cushions as he imagined L laying down. He would have dropped his phone from his pinched fingers into the crook of his neck. This picture painted itself as Light listened to L move—L’s long legs stretched to the full length of a stiff hotel couch, his hands folded on top of his stomach and lifting as he breathed. His eyes, pulled into a befuddled restlessness by alcohol, would dart from object to object in the room without a central focus. In his own weakness, Light wanted to be in the room with L if only to give him something to look at. “Don’t you want to speak to me?”

“Ryuzaki.”

“I’ve consumed more drinks than usual,” L said. “I have deduced the reason to be a lack of your companionship.”

“You act like this was my decision.” With one finger, Light pushed his laptop away so he could prop his elbows on the desk. He settled in close, leaned forward as though he might hear L better. “You’re the one who decided to go alone. Besides, drinking is a poor solution for missing me. Alcohol only ever makes you more melancholy.”

“I know.” Light heard L inhale through a pinched nose, a little sharper than his usual breathing. “Mm. I’m not quite as charming a drunk as you are.”

“You’ve never called me charming when I’m drunk,” Light said. “I believe the usual descriptor is a terrible flirt and seducer.”

“I miss you.” The words dropped like three pins into Light’s ear and pricked the swell of frustration in his chest. Around Light, the world blurred as L’s voice became more and more defined. “It’s no fun without you here. Everyone is incompetent and no one likes my jokes. It’s such a bore that I’ve gotten drunk just to have something to do. Oh shit. I spilled some whiskey on the table. I’ll wipe it up.”

“Are you using your shirt?” Light tried to maintain a firm tone but found it failing. He was upset. He couldn’t give L any ground. A persistent tugging in his chest, however, refused to let him feed the fire anymore. “Find a towel. How do you have nothing to do? I thought you were on a case.”

“Solved it.” Wet smacks filtered through the phone as L mopped up the spilled liquid. His tone was cavalier and Light’s frustration peeked through again. “Easy case. The son did everything, even left fingerprints in the hallway. He was a little shit too, same way you were.”

“I’ll ignore that comment.” Light rolled his shoulders and stared out his study’s window. It faced the forest that bordered their backyard and as he looked, birds shook the branches. Clicking his tongue, Light’s eyes fell to the small pathway leading into the trees and considered hanging up, again, to go outside. He could walk and walk into the forest before disappearing—never to show up again. Wouldn’t that serve L right? To lose him.

“Don’t be offended,” L said. “You were justified in your behavior. And anyway. You’re the only little shit I’ve fallen in love with.”

A squirrel ran across their backyard with skittering feet. Light froze, fingers stuck to his phone and mouth dry from shock. Rarely did L ever confess anything beyond an intense fondness for Light. He complimented him, told him he was important and petted his ego when Light needed it. In response to Light’s love confessions, however, L only accepted them without reciprocating. Even as L continued to speak, Light could only replay the curl of his voice around the word “love” in an endless loop.

“I’ve been thinking,” L said. “We should buy a house. A real house.”

“Huh.”

“I’d like to buy furniture with you.” A short laugh followed the pronouncement. “We’ll never agree but I think it might be fun to argue in the store.”

“Yeah.”

“Light.” L spoke with a vague concern circling his otherwise drifting voice. He didn’t seem to be quite reining in his speech in its usual deep tones. Alcohol loosened the edges as they spilled into sentences. “Are you alright? You aren’t usually so quiet. Don’t you have something you’d like to talk about? Something you’d like to say?”

“When did you fall in love with me?” A creak bent over Light’s voice and he winced. Silence pulled between himself and L until a sigh broke it.

“When you punched me.”

“What?” Light frowned. “During our fight?”

“Yes. You have a good punch for someone of your weight.”

“ _Tsk_.” Light shook his head. “Of course.”

“Would you like a more romantic response?”

“Maybe.” Outside, clouds clustered over the sun. Rain was the forecast for the evening. “I doubt I could get one from you.”

“Ah. You know me too well.” Warmth infused L’s voice. “Such a nice feeling. To be known.”

“Would you like to know when I fell in love with you?”

“Not really.” L clicked his tongue. “Do you love me?”

Air caught in Light’s throat and he spoke without thought.

“Yes.” His free hand clutched into a fist. “I love you.”

“Then that’s enough.” Light could see the satisfied curve of L’s smile as clear as the shift of the trees out his window. L coughed and his voice fell into something rougher. “Would you be willing to indulge me in something?”

“What do you want?” Pleasant excitement rose throughout Light’s skin that calmed his anxious itch.

“Would you dirty talk with me over the phone?”

“What?” Light snorted. “No.”

“But you said you love me,” L whined. “And I miss you. I miss sex.”

“Yeah, well.” Fingers tapping on the desk, Light rolled his eyes. “If you weren’t so drunk, I would.”

“You’re being a brat.” A disgruntled scoff rumbled through the phone. “Cruel, even.”

“Well.” Light grinned through his response. “Don’t go on cases without me. Then you could have the real thing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” L groaned and Light heard him roll over on the couch. “I’ve got a headache. Too much whiskey.”

“Oh, poor L.” Light laughed. “Get some Aspirin and sleep it off, dummy.”

“Ah. Light is so smart.” A brightness broke through L’s monotone. “I’ll let you go. Have a good night.”

“The same to you,” Light said and then, quickly, “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

The line went dead and Light let the phone press to his ear a few seconds longer. Then he set it to the side, pulled his laptop back and flipped open his browser. He needed to look at houses.


	19. how do you fail a survey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L fails a survey

Light sat at the table and stirred his coffee while pouring cream into it. The white liquid spun until it all became light brown. He stopped and let the spoon swirl on its own. It turned around and around until it slowed to a halt. Taking it out, he tapped the spoon to the cup rim and put it to the side. He moved to take a drink when, from the café door, he heard his name called.

“Hello, Light.” L came toward him with lazy, scuffled footsteps and drew the eye of everyone in the café. Light held back a frown and let a soft chuckle float out from him instead. Beneath his shirt, his binder tightened around his ribs.

“Ryuga,” he said. “I’m surprised. I don’t usually see you outside of school.”

“Oh, yes.” Now at the table side, L nodded and used one finger to pull down his lip. His hair was less smooth than usual and had a frantic energy. Light wondered whether L slept much. Doubtless if he asked, L would spout something off about sleep being a detriment to his intelligence which Light knew to be false. His own sleep schedule was an essential part of his success and something he refused to give up even for Kira’s work. “I was in the neighborhood and remembered what a nice place this was. It was so nice of you to show it to me.”

“I thought you’d appreciate how private it is.” Light held his coffee cup up and gave L a mouse’s smile—small and near timid. “Although I didn’t think you’d like it enough to come back.”

“Don’t be so modest.” One leg at a time, L clambered into the seat opposite Light and settled in. He clasped his hands to his knees and offered a blank but not unkind expression in response to Light’s smile. “You have excellent taste in many things—restaurants, universities and even women. Takada is quite the catch. I’m sure you two will have a very nice courtship.”

Light shook his head. Ugh. Of course L would mention Kiyomi as though he had any idea what Light felt. He liked her well enough and certainly found her more engaging than any other woman. But he had no future in mind for himself and Kiyomi beyond a flirtation that kept any sort of homosexual suspicion at bay. There wasn’t any reason to correct L, however, since his knowledge of Light’s private life needed to end exactly at his current observation.

“We’re just friends,” he said and took a sip from his cup. A waitress passed by their table, stopped as she noticed L and assured them she’d be back shortly to take his order. Ignoring her, L continued to watch him as Light thanked the waitress with a little nod. Light turned back and continued his statement. “I only see her during and between classes. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“Well I suppose you don’t have much time for dates,” L said. “The investigation is quite an obligation. And, if you were Kira, it wouldn’t be prudent to tie yourself to a romantic partner who might discover your secret.”

“And why would that be?”

“Kira wouldn’t want any unpredictable factors in his corner.” L began to remove creamer cups from the condiment carrier and stacked them on top of each other. “A girlfriend is an unknown element and might react poorly to finding out Kira’s activity. It would be difficult, then, to deal with such a problem without drawing suspicion to yourself. Don’t you think, Light?”

“I guess.” Light shrugged. “But I try to spend as little time thinking like Kira as possible. I know we’re investigating him but it gets oppressive after a while.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. In order to capture criminals, it’s necessary sometimes to think like them. Perhaps you’ll get used to it over time since you’re still very young.”

Light stiffened but smoothed himself over with a small sigh. Young? L couldn’t have been much older than him so why did he act like Light was a child? If anything, he was the more childish one with all his sweets and endless prodding. Light folded his arms onto the table and pushed his coffee to the side. Around them, people returned to their own conversations but Light felt their ears still attached to their table. L poked his creamer tower and toppled it. Over his shoulder, Light spotted the waitress and almost sighed with relief. A distraction. She bustled to L’s side of the table and, without looking at the menu, L ordered black tea and cake.

“Which kind would you like?” The waitress gave L a broad smile which he returned with a small, bored tilt of his mouth.

“Whichever one you think is best,” he said. “I’m not picky when it comes to cake.”

Smile dampened slightly from L’s apathetic tone, the waitress finished scribbling his order and asked Light if he wanted a refill on his coffee. He refused and she moved to leave when L stopped her.

“Bring Light a slice of cake as well.” He pointed the empty space in front of Light. When Light opened his mouth to protest, L held up a hand and waved his disagreement away. “Don’t argue. It will all go on my bill, including your coffee.” He turned back to the waitress. “You can go now.”

“You don’t have to pay for my coffee.” Light tried to keep his voice as clear as possible but the grit of annoyance was unavoidable. “Or order things for me.”

“I felt bad for making you so uncomfortable before.” L retrieved his creamer cups again and began organizing them into a pyramid. “It’s no trouble. Money really isn’t a concern for me.”

“Hm.” Light leaned onto his elbows. “Well. Let’s talk about something else. What was your day like today? Did you attend any classes?”

“Yes,” L said. “I had to take a survey in one and I failed it.”

A sharp, sour laugh choked out of Light and his hand flew to cover his mouth. For a moment, L regarded him with confusion but his interest flagged when the waitress returned with his tea. She set it on the table hard, probably still sore from his dismissal earlier.

“How do you fail a survey?” Light tried to keep any more laughter from his voice, worried that his control might slip into his more natural cruel chuckle. “I’m sorry to make fun but I can’t believe it.”

“I refused to fill out my personal information.” With two fingers, L plucked three pink packets of sugar from the condiment carrier and ripped them all at once. He dumped the sugar in his tea until a small mountain formed with a tiny white peak protruding from the tea’s surface. “So I didn’t receive any points for the survey. It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t planning to attend that class much anyway.”

“Why didn’t you just lie?” Light touched his coffee cup, now gone cold, and took a sip anyway. The rubbery texture of cold cream laden coffee glided across his tongue like a slug. He fought down a wince as he dropped the cup back to the table. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have checked if the information was accurate.”

“Too much effort.” L reached and took Light’s spoon despite having a clean one next to him. Light moved his hand to stop him but stopped. He didn’t actually mind these small shows of imprudent intimacy. If anything, they cemented what appeared to be a bond between them. Friends shared things, didn’t they? For a moment, Light tried to remember the last time he’d been so cavalier with any friend. His mind ran through old memory films but no footage was found.

“Well, it can’t have been too sensitive information,” Light said. “What did it ask for?”

“My name.” L traced a circle in the air with the spoon, flicking tea onto the table. “My age. What my occupation is.”

“Those don’t seem like very difficult questions to lie about.” Sick of seeing L make a mess, Light watched a couple at the table a few feet from them have a low, pointed argument. The woman’s tight fist was on the table and her mouth was a straight, bitter line. He couldn’t see the man’s face but read tension in the stiff arch of his back. So stupid to have an argument in public and just another reason not to pursue any sort of relationship. Or it would have been, were he not currently backed into a corner with Misa. The sudden thought of her erased what little excitement he’d felt at L’s failed survey.

“Ah, well. I’m sure its information you might be interested in.” L’s voice moved smoothly over his words despite their needling quality. Despite himself, Light rolled his eyes and checked his watch. Dinner was in an hour and he’d have to catch the next train soon. Time to cut this short.

“Unfortunately, Ryuga, I’m not so interested in the small details about you.” Light reached down to collect his coat. “I’m sure you feel the same way about me.”

“Oh. No.” The answer startled Light and as he glanced up, L met his eyes. A deep, dark sincerity came from L’s gaze that penetrated into Light’s chest and left him sunken for a moment. He hesitated in bringing his coat to his lap and didn’t move from his seat. “I find Light supremely interesting. There’s a lot I’d like to know about him.”

“Is there anything you don’t already know?” Light’s voice dipped into an unpleasant bratty tone and he frowned. Across the table, L took a long, loud sip of his tea and then set it down gently. He tapped a finger to the table, picking up some stray sugar, and then brought it to his lips. With his tongue, pink and longer than Light expected, he licked it just as loudly as he’d drank his tea.

A passing thought, no more clinging than a leaf blown by the wind, flew through Light’s head—what L’s mouth might feel like on his. Shame flushed his face and he turned his attention away from L. From the kitchen, the waitress made her way toward them with two plates in hand. After placing them on the table, she glanced to Light’s cup and asked him again if he wanted a refill.

He checked his watch again and then looked back to the cake in front of him. It was yellow cake, decorated by a thick layer of white frosting with tiny red rosettes dotting the top. A layer of cream and quartered strawberries split the inside of the cake. Nothing about it seemed delicious or extraordinary. L’s fork was already dug into the moist sponge and, when he noticed Light staring, he smiled. The curve of his mouth was minute at best but sent a dizzy sensation through Light’s head.  

Light slipped his coat back to the side and nodded at the waitress.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll have another one.”


	20. sit down and let me do your hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> light brushes L's hair

On the television, a woman threw a drink in her husband’s face and screamed. At one end of the couch, L sat plunking out an email with two fingers and on the other end, Light watched him. His shoulders were around his ears from an uncontrollable discomfort at the detective’s hunt and peck typing.

“Ryuzaki,” he said. “You need to use more fingers.”

“Hm?” L’s head swiveled and regarded Light’s posture. His expression didn’t change but he took his hands from the keyboard. “I don’t see how my typing isn’t sufficient enough.”

“Who taught you to type?” Light reached over and took the laptop. “You’re moving slower than my mom. Just tell me what you want the email to say and I’ll type it for you.”

“No one taught me to type and I’m not going to dictate my correspondence to you as though Light is my secretary.” L grabbed at the laptop but Light held it just out of reach. He scooted further down the couch and set the computer on his legs. “You’re being more childish than usual.”

“You need to take some kind of class.” Light settled in and looked at L. His features, serious and concerned, reflected his father’s. “It’s ridiculous that the world’s greatest detective types like an old grandmother.”

L waved a dismissive hand but stopped his reaching. He dropped his hands on his knees and sighed loudly. Bending sideways, he retrieved his tea cup and took a long, exaggerated slurp from it.

“Light is so serious,” he said. “But if you’re that insistent, I’ll play along.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Light held his hands over the keyboard and nodded at L to indicate his readiness. As L began to dictate, his voice looped around each word as though he were writing long hand with his speech. His words and Light’s quick, precise typing smothered the squealing of the television until it became white noise.

While Light worked, he looked over the details of L’s laptop. Unread messages stacked on top of each other and glowed blue. Several seemed important but most of them were spam. The internet window behind, open just a bit bigger than L’s email, had a cluster of tabs lining the browser bar. L paused between words and Light’s attention flickered to the tabs to read the websites. Nothing interesting caught Light’s eye until his attention fell on one tab with three X’s attached to the title. Heat rose to his cheeks and he focused back on the email without looking at the web browser again.

With a succinct send off, L told Light to send the email and took another sip of tea. His fingers, thin and spidery, pinched the handle while his pinkie was stuck out in mock elegance. Light tapped the enter key and hurried to put the laptop far away from him. All his thoughts were consumed with the idea of L not only watching pornography but doing so on his work computer while Light was a foot and half away from him. The traitorous part of Light’s mind wondered what sort of pornography L was viewing. It began to supply him with possible options which, unfortunately, were all edited to contain L doing the sex acts. He turned away from the thoughts and found something else to preoccupy him.

“Is there anything else that you don’t do?” Light gave L a quick glance over and gestured to the frantic spikes of his hair. “It seems like you don’t know how to type  _or_ brush your hair.”

“I don’t brush my hair.” L’s tone was perfunctory but when he caught Light’s confused expression, it became defensive. “It’s a waste of time. Our current living situation is very rare for me. My work is usually behind a screen and my only companion is Watari. There’s never a reason for me to take time with my appearance.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You seem very concerned about my physical appearance,” L teased. “I didn’t realize Light was so shallow.”

“It’s not shallow to brush your hair.” Light shook his hair and stood from the couch. The chain pulled on his wrist as he dragged L from his seat.  “Come on.”

Without shutting off the television, Light led them from the sitting room into their sleeping quarters. It was luxurious in the way all of L’s surroundings were tinged with wealth. Everything around him was beautiful while L sat in the middle, ill-kept and strange, as though he were a king entitled to all the opulence he received. Their bed was unmade since L’s room was the one place Watari didn’t personally clean. When Light asked about the restriction, L informed him in a flat, dismissive tone that he didn’t like his things being touched when he wasn’t in the room. As a result, the room was a mix of L’s clothes, left in piles stippling the floor, and various electronic devices Light could only guess the purpose of. For his part, Light tried to tidy things and L never stopped him. He would follow him around, the chain loose between them, while Light put clothes away and relegated L’s bits and bobs to a single corner.

Light went into the bathroom but came out too quickly for L to join him. In his hand, he held a round brush and he used it to gesture at the bed.

“Sit down,” he said, “and let me do your hair.”

For a moment, L stared back at Light completely inert. He tucked his hands into his pockets, turned his gaze to the floor and scratched his foot with the other one. Then he shrugged and went to the bed. He climbed onto it one leg at a time until he folded himself into his usual position.

Light got up behind him on his knees and ran a hand through L’s hair. His fingers caught on several tangles immediately. With a quiet groan, he chose a spot to start and pulled the brush through it. He continued the process with concentration burning behind his eyes. Every once and a while, L let out a grunt when Light tugged too hard but for the most part he stayed silent.

Through the closed bedroom door, Light still heard the television’s echo. He was struck by a feeling of isolation although it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. The world existed outside in quiet celluloid conversation while he and L were separate—alone in a room and touching. Light didn’t mind touching L. In fact, he didn’t think twice about being tactile with L in the way he considered touch with others. Something about the indifference that L treated all their interactions with made it easy to be in close contact.

Behind a door in Light’s mind, closed but with a key in the lock, he admitted he felt more comfortable in his relationship with L than he’d felt with anyone in a long time. He shouldn’t, not when every move he made was calculated by the detective in the larger equation of Kira, but the feelings remained true.

As the brush began to move easier through L’s hair, Light relaxed his arm and it rested on L’s shoulder while he worked.

“I’m going to ask you a question.” L turned his head enough for Light to see his mouth move. “Will you answer honestly?”

“I always answer honestly.” Light sighed and shook his head. “Just ask.”

“Did Light see my browser window?”

Light froze and nearly dropped the brush. His fingers were rigid and if he moved, he was sure they would snap.

“Yes.” His answer was soft with the hope L might only barely hear it. “I didn’t open anything.”

“I didn’t think you did.” A short chuckle fell from L. “I noticed a change in your posture while you were typing. I apologize if you were offended.”

“It’s fine. It’s none of my business.”

“Are you curious about it though?” L surrounded his question in a bland tone which still betrayed a genuine interest in Light’s answer. Light dropped his hands from L’s hair and into his lap. He swallowed and tried to stifle the rough urge to tell the truth.

“I’m not,” he said. “Like I said: it’s none of my business.”

“Of course.” L nodded and then he took a deep breath. He turned around to face Light completely with the most genuine expression he’d worn since Light knew him. “Have you told anyone?”

“About the pornography?” Confused, Light shook his head. Told anyone? Who would he tell? “I’m not going to tattle on you to my father, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No. Not about me.” L’s dark eyes traced every edge of Light’s face and sent a creeping, difficult to name sensation through his spine. “I suppose you haven’t.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Folding his arms across his chest, Light settled back against the headboard with eyes cast to the side. He watched two lights blink on and off on one of L’s devices shaped like a radio. At the surface of himself, he didn’t have a clue what L referred to and made little effort to find the connection. Further in, past a long hall of doors holding secrets, was a cellar chained closed and with a key Light lost on purpose a long time ago. In that cellar, cold and heavy, Light knew exactly what L was asking him about.

“I’m not a person you trust,” L said. “I wouldn’t expect you to, not now. But if you ever want to talk about these things I won’t stop you.”

“I told you.” Razors pierced through Light’s tone and ripped the comfort he once let fill him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. Of course.” L nodded and turned back around. “Would Light finish brushing? It was very good.”

Stiff limbed, Light got back up on his knees and ran the brush over L’s hair. Now it glided through smoothly. All the tangles, it seemed, had entered Light’s stomach and twisted his guts. Inside him he felt a pounding from the cellar as something wanted to be let out. He tried to tune the sound out and focused on other things. The low, muffled chatter of the television through the wall. The small wheeze of L’s breathing. The tick of his watch—steady and unyielding.

“I think I’m finished.” Light placed the brush on the bedside table and considered his work. The peaks of L’s hair were smoother now—still sharp but less frantic. L ran a hand through his locks, the pale boney lines of his fingers contrasting the pitch of his hair.

“Thank you.” L’s voice was breathier than before. He didn’t turn around but Light still heard his words as though they were whispered right in his ear. “You’re a very interesting person, Light.”

“So are you.” Light’s hands twitched where he’d tucked them under his thighs, afraid what they might do if he didn’t contain them. To place an exact action on them was too much to bear, too much to name. They sat and were silent. On the television, someone screamed loud enough it pierced through the wall.

Light closed his eyes and imagined another door opening. He bundled up every thought he had, all the ugly longing creeping in, and tossed them inside. He shut the door and locked it with a slim, silver key. In his mind, he held the key up above him and dropped it in his mouth. He swallowed.


	21. come here. you're shivering.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> light gets sick

L stood in front of the closed door and looked down. From the slight crack at the bottom spilled the low, orange light of their bedside lamp. Every two minutes or so, a thick, unhappy cough came through followed by a loud groan. With a deep breath, he took hold of the door knob and went into their bedroom.

Propped up by three pillows, Light laid with his eyes closed. His cheeks were highlighted by bright, red spots which stood out against the pale illness coloring the rest of his face. One thick layer of their cotton blue duvet was piled over his body and remained askew on L’s side of the bed. Thin fingers clutched a handkerchief over his mouth while Light shook from the force of his cough. He hardly moved besides that. Then, upon his hearing L’s entrance, he turned his head in a slow little motion.

L dawdled in the doorframe, still acting as though he had no idea what he was doing or who the person in bed was. His hands were kept in his pockets while he ambled over but he paused each time Light coughed. He stopped at the foot of the bed and gawked from there. After ten minutes of his staring, Light peeked one eye open and frowned.

“Are you going to do anything?” Light’s voice was a weed attempting to grow through concrete. It hardly grasped the words he said but he fought through another cough to continue. “You look childish just standing there.”

“I’m not sure what to do.” L shrugged. “Watari told me I should come.”

“Oh, how thoughtful.” Light snorted and then winced in immediate regret. “I guess you’ve never seen me sick before.”

“I’ve never seen anyone sick before.”

“That’s ridiculous.” With only one eye still open, Light tried to adjusting his position. He grimaced and sank back down in defeat. “Ugh. Come sit next to me. It’s too hard to talk to you all the way over there.”

L hesitated but then followed Light’s order. One leg at a time, he crouched next to Light who held up the other side of the duvet. He dropped it when L shook his head and coughed again—this one much wetter in nature. A terrible urge to vomit came into L’s throat that he fought down as hard as he could. To distract himself, he continued to talk.

“I’ve never been sick myself,” L said. “Watari has always said I was a very healthy child. Once he thought I had a cold but I was only play acting.”

“Why would you pretend to have a cold?” Light spoke with the firm tone of someone trying very hard not to sound groggy. His resistance to the phlegm in his throat was not strong enough and he sounded frogish.

“Oh. I wanted attention.” L began to teeth on his knuckle. He didn’t know what to say—a situation he loathed to be in. Especially around Light with their every conversation still a game of sharp wits. They walked around each other not on eggshells but instead the most exciting of knifepoints. Except now, with Light sluggishly ill and L without a single good conversation to start.

He was surprised then when Light started laughing. The sound was thumping, almost like he were six feet underwater. With its jagged playfulness, Light’s laugh filled the room and some of L’s unsteadiness eased. Ah. So his Light was under that sick creature after all.

“You always want attention,” Light said, a little breathless. “So you’ve never had a cold? Never had the flu?”

“Not once.” L leaned back on the headboard and took his hands from his mouth. “Have you been sick before?”

“Of course.” With another, shorter laugh, Light’s features softened into something more nostalgic. “When I got a cold, my mom let me stay home from school and I’d lay in bed all day. She would bring me tea and sit on the bed so we could talk. It was sort of boring because she never had anything good to talk about but it was nice to have someone do all that stuff for me.”

“You just enjoy being waited on.”

“Mm.” Light swallowed and smiled. “That’s just what people do when you’re sick. You get special treatment.”

He opened both his eyes and rolled his head over to look at L. The skin around his eyes was a light pink and his mouth was chapped. As L studied his face, he realized he’d never seen Light so unpleasant. Even in the mornings, when Light was just rolling out of bed, he still kept a clear face and innate calmness that stilled his every feature. Cloistered in his sick bed, Light’s stillness had ruptured and left him scraggly. L reached out and skimmed his palm over Light’s cheek. He found him to be the most attractive person on Earth at the very moment.

“You’re so spoiled,” he said. “You must be so upset with the service here.”

“No.” Light pressed his face into L’s touch. “Watari has been more than helpful. But I suppose there are others who could work on their attitude.”

With that, he went to kiss L but doubled over in a coughing fit. His hand flew to his face with the handkerchief and, as Light shook, L noticed the tiny “Q.W.” stitched into the corner. An uncontrollable comfort tunneled through him. While he was confident in his relationship with Light, it was good in a way he couldn’t explain to know Quillish approved. It was an all-encompassing sense of wellness that came with the knowledge that the two most important people in his life liked each other.

Shaking himself from those sentimental thoughts, L waited for Light to finish his coughing before sliding his hand into the sweaty clutch of Light’s hair. He tugged him upward and into a kiss that was more open mouthed than was safe. But he hadn’t kissed Light for the whole day, too worried about his illness, that he couldn’t be bothered to take precaution. Instead, L dove in and held his mouth to Light’s in a none too gentle press. Light dropped the handkerchief and clasped the front of L’s shirt.

Light pulled away first, his chapped lips now a brighter shade of red. His eyes were glassy and he groaned, pulling at the covers.

“Ugh,” he said. “My head’s spinning.”

“Come here,” L said. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m not.” Light tugged the covers up further with shaking fingers. “Why did you do that? Now you’ll be sick.”

“Well.” L scooted into a reclining position and took Light’s hand in his. He pulled him closer until they were wrapped in each other. “I’ve always wanted to try being sick, at least once. Will you wait on me?”

“Hand and foot,” Light said.


	22. i think its time for a new look. i want to help.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L tries on some clothes

The closet was a wide, long room separated by an imaginary line down the middle. Covering the back wall was long and mirrored panels that twined everything in the space. On the left were rows of L’s white sweaters and thrown in heaps on the floor were his strangely clean sneakers. Light’s clothes hung in color coded order on the right with a shoe organizer underneath holding all his loafers, tennis shoes and a pair of sandals.

Both sides had large, brown dressers set up on the far wall that held their pants and undergarments. Scattered over Light’s dresser were picture frames displaying his family cloistered together for a family photo. He also kept a little dish where some phone charms and a spare watch made their home. L didn’t put anything on his dresser besides some stray receipts.

Light stood at the center of the closet in just his briefs and a thin undershirt. He considered his sweaters and ran his hand over them the way someone might brush against a windchime. Most of them were made of rich cotton and wool in dark, earthy tones. Between them hung a few linen and poplin button downs that were in much duller shades. While he looked, L’s soft, measure footfalls came from behind and he turned to see the man leaned against the doorframe.

“Do you have to take so long to find your clothes?” L lifted one foot and scratched his calf. His toes on the ground wiggled in the creamy carpeting while Light frowned. “We’re not even going anywhere. You’re just doing a tele-conference.”

“It pays to look good,” Light said. “You might try the same next time you’re out in the world.”

“I don’t go out in the world.” L said with an annoying firmness. “It takes a lot of skill to find the clothes which work best for yourself and that’s what I’ve done. You might try to do ityourself.”

Light rolled his eyes. He’d heard this little tidbit before and still didn’t believe it. L wore what he wore out of laziness, not some specially calculation. One of his suit jacket’s sleeves poked out amongst the other clothes and Light reached out to tug on it. Between his fingers, he rubbed the burgundy corduroy with small nostalgia lingering in his touch. He took it down from the rack to examine and caught the loose threads still sticking from the shoulders, the worn fabric on the sleeve ends.

L hummed and shuffled into the closet. He crowded behind Light and set his chin on his shoulder.

“Oh, I remember this coat.” As he spoke, his chin dug further into the juncture between Light’s neck and shoulder. “You wore it a few times when I met you at your university.”

“Yeah. I did.” In thinking about wearing the coat, Light remembered the sun soaking into the fabric while he sat with L under flowering trees. He thought of when he took the jacket off and how L would tease him for wearing such a thick garment during spring. He laughed, a sparkling snip of a sound, and shook the coat. “You know what? You should wear it.”

Crinkling his nose, L shook his head.

“No.” His voice was mired in stubbornness. “I don’t like coats.”

“I think it’s time for a new look,” Light said. “I want to help.”

“You can help by putting that thing away.”

L reached around to snatch the hanger from Light’s hands and started a game of keep away between them. Light held the coat high above his head while standing on his tip toes and bounced on the balls of his feet away from L’s grasping fingers. He grinned as the detective kept grabbing at empty air but his features fell as L gave him a sharp pinch on his ass. Stumbling, Light landed hard into his clothes rack with an unhappy groan.

“It’s your own fault.” L grinned in response to the glare Light sent his way. “You shouldn’t jump around like that in your underwear and not expect a bit of attention.”

“You cheated.” A pout threatened to overtake Light but he fought it down and pulled the coat close to his chest. “You’re an awful cheat.”

“Yes. I’m a cheater.” L nodded in solemn agreement. “I suppose you’ll have to abandon me now for a man of honor and good moral standing.”

Light’s foot struck out and caught L by the ankle, knocking him to the ground. He hit the floor with a terrible thump—the kind that brought to mind images of bruises—and curled his fingers into the carpet. Cackling, Light delighted in the rumpled expression on L’s face.

“If I do abandon you,” he said, “it’ll be because you only wear white sweaters. So you should try on the coat or I’ll leave you forever.”

Grumbling, L leveraged himself up by his elbows and put his hand out. Expression drenched in victory, Light plopped the coat into L’s palm. They climbed to their feet and L fumbled the hanger from the coat before tossing it to the ground. While he slung his arms into the sleeves, Light picked up the hanger and put it away. L never seemed to clean up after himself unless it was demanded of him and Light surmised he’d used up his demands for the day.

The coat fit L in the waist and was the correct arm length. However, it was tight in the shoulders since he was a bit broader there than Light. He regarded himself in the mirror like a cat seeing itself for the first time: turning a little to the left then a little to the right in distrust. Over his sweater, the burgundy stood out and looked tasteful next to his dark blue jeans. Light came behind him and tried to adjust the shoulders but realized the impossibility. Instead his hands lingered and squeezed.

“I look foolish,” L said.

“You look the exact opposite.” Light kissed the tip of L’s ear. “You look like a very interesting professor or a strange, mysterious writer.”

“I think you’ve got too much imagination.” L shook his head but a hint of pride sharpened his eyes. “You only want to flatter me into wearing new clothes.”

“My plans aren’t always so elaborate,” Light said. “Keep it on, please? We can take it out tonight for dinner. To that place downtown, yeah?”

Part of traveling that excited Light was trying new food. He was very fond of Thai food for its incredible spiciness which L suffered through. In the closest town to them was a Thai restaurant that made the most flavorful curries and in Light’s old coat, L looked exactly as classy as such an establishment demanded.

“Alright.” L raised an eyebrow at Light. In the mirror, his expression was reversed and appeared almost wicked. “Isn’t your conference in ten minutes?”

“Shit.” Light spat out the curse and ran to his side of the closet, tossing sweaters around. “You distracted me.”

“You distracted yourself.” L began to pace back and forth, staring at his reflection. “You should learn to be more efficient when you dress.”

Light didn’t respond but dug further into his clothes. Nothing seemed to catch him until a stray thought stuck to his mind. He pushed himself from the clothes rack and over to L’s closet. He tugged a white sweater free and yanked it on. As he pulled his head through the collar, L came into view with a rapturous expression.

“What?” Light played confused while slyness bubbled in his stomach. The sweater clung to his sides where it draped on L and was loose in the shoulders. He pulled down the bottom of the sweater and tilted his head. “I think this looks good. I might have to start wearing it more often.”

L didn’t respond. Instead, he walked in his same measured, easy steps until his hands were firm on Light’s hips. He pressed his thumbs into Light’s hipbones and pulled him in.

“It’s a keeper.” L spoke an inch from Light’s mouth and when he took a breath to continue speaking, he was cut off by a kiss. It was a short, chaste one and Light pulled away, patting L’s cheek.

“Got to put on pants,” he said. “It needs to be a complete outfit.”

“Can I make a suggestion?”

“I am not going to wear any of your oversized jeans.” Light shot L a serious look which faded into one matching in L’s own mischievous expression. “I’ve got my own that fit much nicer.”


	23. a christmas fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and light hv some holiday chat in a coffee shop

On the frosted window, someone had drawn a Christmas tree. It’s lines were crisp and clear amidst the thin white background. Light stared at the little tree while across from him L opened another sugar packet into his tea. At three in the afternoon, activity buzzed around the coffee shop. From the caddy, Light took one cream packet and emptied it into his cup. He turned it over to read the label. Hazelnut. L made a horrible slurping noise with his tea which Light ignored. He stuck a spoon in his coffee and stirred it clockwise until the coffee became light brown.

“Why did you pick a table so close to the door?” he said. “It’s too cold.”

“It’s nice outside. I wanted to see the snow.”

Instead of responding, Light took a sip and considered his position. These few occasions where he and L left the investigation headquarters were a good break yet still he remained chained. Even without the handcuffs, he was latched to L’s side by an agreement not to leave his sight. His hold on the cup handle tightened. All these rules dizzied him at times, all these machinations just to go outside.

“Light is being very quiet,” L said. “Are you thinking about something?”

“Hm?”

“Perhaps you’re thinking about Christmas?” One finger slid around the rim of L’s tea cup. “It’s coming very soon.”

“Oh.” Light hadn’t looked at a calendar in weeks. “I guess it is. Well, it’s not like I can spend it with my family anyway. I haven’t given it much thought, to tell you the truth.”

“I like that.” L cleared his throat. “When Light tells me the truth.”

Glass hit the tabletop hard and rattled the surface. Light grimaced and released his grip on his cup. In an effort not to form a fist, he ran his hand through his hair. Something in the way L spoke to him made Light feel sharp to the touch. His skin grew thin and brittle around L as though waiting for the right words to crack him open into a thousand jagged pieces.

“I always tell the truth.“ His voice broke over a word and heat rose in his cheeks. Anxiety always brought out the cracks in his voice. Instead of acknowledging what happened, L took a long drink of his tea.

“Light tells his own version of the truth,” he said.

“Everyone does.” What did L hope to gain in this conversation? An ache built up in Light’s ribs and he tugged at his binder. “Even you do. I don’t see why it matters right now. You’re just being difficult.”

“Yes. I suppose I am.”

Silence occupied the space between them after L spoke. All along the ceiling of the coffee shop tinsel hung in long silver and red swoops. It reflected the light from the windows and glittered while Light stared into his hands. So it was Christmastime. For the first time, he wouldn’t be at home. Homesickness infected his chest like his heart had just developed the feeling. He chanced a look at L, whose attention was focused on a pair of birds fighting outside.

“Have you been thinking about it?” When L’s eyes met his in confusion, Light clarified. “You know. About Christmas?”

“A little.” He clapped his hands over his knees. “I’ve never truly celebrated the holiday. Usually I’m busy but this year has been so different. Perhaps we should do something for it.”

“Interesting. I wouldn’t expect you to want to take any time away from the case.”

“It’s the first time I will have someone to spend Christmas with,” L said.

The coffee Light drank turned too hot on his tongue but he continued to swallow it. Next to them, a pair of students talked about their final exams. If he weren’t sitting where he was, if he weren’t under a microscope, his own final exams would’ve been Light’s only concern. A frivolous concern in comparison to the difficulties that he faced in his current situation but still. Some part of him wanted to get up and walk out of the coffee shop, to run until not a single person could catch up with him. His wallet was back at headquarters so there was no way he could afford to stay away but maybe he could stand to do something stupid like that.

“Ah,” he said. “Of course. I forget sometimes about you saying I’m your first friend. That’s a lot of pressure, you know.”

“I’m sure Light can handle it.” L’s mouth moved into a wan smile as he tapped his fingers rhythmically. “He’s very good at working under pressure.”

At the bottom of his cup were a few flecks of coffee grounds. They swirled as Light fiddled with the handle. Thumb and forefinger pinched together, L picked up another packet of sugar and held up above his head. Carefully, he tore it open and let sugar spill half into his cup and half onto the table. He made no attempt to clean up his mess and sipped his tea in quiet thought.

Outside, people walked past in clumps with bags swinging at their sides. All of them were probably going home to their families to have dinner, to laugh and to discuss their day. What would Light return to once they left the shop? A room, luxurious but bare of comfort, and a computer. A chair next to L’s that squeaked when he pulled it over to show him new evidence. A sour feeling that twisted together with the metal of their handcuffs. His cup grew cold between his hands and Light stared at a woman swinging her red bag. She disappeared in a barrage of grey suits that blurred his vision.

“We should get going,” L said. His tea was more sugar than liquid and in a swift, arrogant gesture he dug his pinkie into the wet grit. Finger now crystalline, L stuck it in his mouth to suck on. Neither of them moved to leave and L stared at Light, who watched the people outside exist. How dare they live their lives while his remained stunted.

L got up first, unfolding himself into his full skeletal figure. Light’s body was weighed down by L’s continued gaze as he stood and collected his coat. He shuffled himself back into it’s warmth and dug his hands deep into the pockets. Inside was the outline of his phone with it’s small charm of a Kuriboh attached to it. Sayu got it for his sixteenth birthday and insisted he continue to use it.

“You should’ve brought a jacket or something,” he said to L. “You’ll be freezing out there.”

With a roll of his shoulders, L sighed and pushed open the cafe’s door. He held it in place as Light walked past him. Outside, snow piled up in the gutters like small, dirty mountains. All of the passers-by took no notice of them although a few children turned their heads to stare at L. He returned their looks while Light took up a brisk pace. He passed the window where they’d sat and stopped. The little tree scraped onto the frosted glass stood out to him once more and seemed bare.

“C’mon,” L said. “There’s work we need to do.”

“Just wait. This will only take a second.” Light crouched down and, with his pointer finger, drew a star on top of the Christmas tree. “There. Now, we can go.”

His knees popped as he stood back up. When he turned to walk, L’s stare caught him. Something in his face was different from his usual scrutiny.

“What is it?”

“Hm. Nothing.”

“You’re not looking at me like it’s nothing.”

“It’s only that Light surprises me,” L said.

“Oh.” It wasn’t excitement that welled up inside him but a dim approximation of it.  He didn’t know what to make of his emotional state, only that L had changed it. He’d never met someone so skilled at making him feel an abundance of things.

“If you’re finished, we should head back.”

“Of course,” Light said. “Let’s go.”

There was a ten minute walk back to headquarters and in that time, Light and L said nothing to each other. Instead, Light stared at his feet while he walked. Wind whistled next to his ear and aimless chatter swirled around him, never touching him. The world was a white noise machine and he wondered whether L felt the same way: if they were both standing at the same angle opposite of everyone and seeing a world torn at the seam. Part of him was desperate for someone to share that feeling with. Another part of him wanted to keep it to himself.

Light hiked the collar of his jacket up. A few snowflakes hit his cheeks and melted in seconds. Beside him, L shivered but his face didn’t change. Their stride fell into the same rhythm but Light still walked faster, always one step just inches further than L’s.


	24. gone girl au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gone girl but now its L and light

When does a person become missing? Is it the moment the space they occupied is vacated? Or is it when someone notices their disappearance? The days of a person’s non-existence drag themselves along making every hour that passes a gaping hole growing larger. Light went missing for two months; a void the size of Jupiter took his place.

Light’s head cracks against the wall of their room. The sound scattered through the air like torn paper held to the wind. L has never heard a sound as perfect as the rattle of Light’s skull on the wall. It’s his own heartbeat, sharp and ringing, hidden in Light’s bones.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” he says.

“What are you going to do?” Light’s smile is poison—cyanide gas solidified into teeth. “Kill me? You already did that though, didn’t you?”

“I never laid a finger on you,” L says and Light’s laughter crackles in the room.

“Now we’re both liars,” he says.

Something inside L twists. Clear as a bell, he can hear the restless patter of rain against a window as an old version of him wakes up to an empty bed. It’s oppressive and violent in his memory just like the gaze Light sets on him now.

“Light,” L says. Half of Light’s face is obscured by his bangs. In the dark, he’s a mystery.

“Ryuzaki,” Light mocks. “Ryuga. L.”

“You’re sick,” L says.

“I’m your husband.”

“You’re not the man I married.” Pressed against the wall, Light doesn’t say anything. He laughs, again, and tilts his head back—his throat, exposed. That thin skin once held L’s fascination. Now he can only see the weaving of blue veins, the small vibrations of Light’s breathing, and wishes he could throttle the life from him. He must have been silent for too long as Light’s fingers twitch at his sides.

“You’re thinking,” he says. “That’s dangerous. You shouldn’t think so much, Ryuzaki.”

“Be quiet,” L hisses. The more Light talks, the more he wants to do  _something_. Give him a single taste of the two months since his disappearance.

“You haven’t heard me in two months. I thought you’d be happy. Aren’t you happy I’m alive?”

Two months. Two months of going through case after case trying to find some lead on where Light went. Two months of finding pieces of broken glass from their shattered coffee table still hidden in the carpet. Two months of Light’s father saying he knew how hard this was on L, but could he tell them exactly what happened again? Meanwhile, a hole shaped like Light’s body deepened beside him and threatened to pull him in.

“Well,” Light says. “Aren’t you?”

He’d woken up. He’d gone downstairs. Their living room had been destroyed and when he called Light’s name, no one answered. No, he didn’t call the police. Yes, he should have called the police. But he’s L, the world’s greatest detective. He didn’t think he’d need a task force to find his own husband.

“Why did you do it?” L asks. Light shrugs, shoulder lifting and dropping like a wave brushing the tips of his hair. Someone should turn on a lamp just to chase away all the shadows forming. Everything about him is fluid in the darkness: a Light which L can’t grasp.

“Maybe I did it because I was bored,” Light says.

L takes one hand, spreads his fingers and wraps them around Light’s neck. He tugs him forward and then slams him back. Light’s eyes flutter shut and a little choking noise escapes him.

“You framed me,” L says.

“You hurt me.” There’s softness to Light’s voice like the skin of a rotten fruit. If L pushes, that softness will break and expose the mealy flesh underneath.

What ruined him was the notebook. Not Light’s diary—a mixture of sporadic thoughts and important phone numbers—but a leather notebook left in their fireplace. Charred enough to be disguised underneath the ashes but still legible, every page was filled. From the moment they met to every moment in-between, Light detailed their relationship with a deft hand. The beginning was exactly how L remembered except reversed, like looking at a picture in the mirror. Here was the first time he met Light reflected backward at him. Here were all their anniversaries, all their triumphs written in Light’s clean, precise handwriting.

Here were their fights which painted L in violent shades. He was oppressive; he stifled Light with blankets of cruel behavior. “Every day I grow surer that this man will be my undoing,” Light wrote. As the days of Light’s disappearance continued, L could’ve said the same thing.

“You deserve it,” L says and means it. “If I had known that this was inside you, that you were capable of this sort of shit—“

“Oh, fuck off.” Even half choked, Light’s voice is strong. “Do you really think any of this ‘I don’t know you’ crap will work on me?”

“I thought I knew you.”

“Let go of me,” Light says. L loosens his grip and let’s Light turn his face away. “You want to know why I left?”

“Why did you frame me?”

“We were boring,” Light says. “This act, this stupid ‘You’re not the man I married’ act, made me sick. You want to pretend that I’m a puzzle to be solved? Fine. I gave you a puzzle to solve and you failed at it.”

“I got you to come back, didn’t I?”

“I decided to come back.”

“Maybe I don’t want you anymore,” L says. “You tried to frame me for murder. We hate each other.”

“Ha. I don’t hate you. I love you.” Bitter teeth shine in the darkness. “Face it. There’s no one else in the world that you want more than me. I’m it, baby.”

He takes a step toward L and L flinches. A curious look flashes over Light’s features.

“That’s okay,” he says. “You’ll remember soon. Even if you don’t, you can’t leave me. Not now.”

“Why not?” L asks. His heart is in his esophagus and beats there like a drum.

“Because if you do,” Light says soft as a ghost. “I’ll fucking kill you.”


	25. spanking (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a strict spanking

L’s knee digs into Light’s stomach and humiliation screams through his body. A hand weighs heavy on his ass, rubbing circles there while Light kicks as hard as he can. He squirms and L sighs.

“This will hurt less if you don’t move so much.” L pinches Light and he can’t stop the squeak that comes out. “You need this.”

“I don’t need a spanking,” Light hisses. “Much less from you.”

“The bratty behavior you showed earlier says otherwise.” Smoothing over his ass as he wriggles, L’s hand grips Light’s thigh to still him. “Have you ever been disciplined before, Light?”

“Shut up.” Heat rises to Light’s cheeks. He brings a fist down on what he can reach of L’s leg but the other man doesn’t budge. “I’m too old to be disciplined.”

“Mm-hm.” Squeezing Light’s thigh, L moves his hand up until it rests on his ass again and pats it. The action is almost more embarrassing than if he’d smacked it. “Well. I’m sure this will be quite the release for you. I’m going to give you a good long spanking, Light, until you learn your lesson.”

“Fuck you.” Light spits out and the first swat hits him. Sharp pain spreads over his right cheek and a rusty scream claws out of him. His hands fly up to cover himself and L catches them, wrestles him until his arms are locked behind his back. Light grinds his teeth. “That hurt.”

“That’s the point.” L brings swat down on his left cheek and then another to his right one. He alternates between them with the sting bringing a heat to Light’s skin. Through the first five, Light squirms against L’s hold. By the tenth his ass is bright from the continued hits. Fifteen leaves his legs limp and at twenty pulls a few tears to the corners of his eyes. He squeezes them shut to fight the sobs that eventually bubble up from him and continue to fall from his mouth. Tears stick to his cheek as the spanking keeps up, steady and burning.

He loses count of the swats. Soon after that, L’s hand stills and cups Light’s ass. He digs his fingers into its swell and the dull pain opens Light’s mouth into a gasp.

“Have you had enough?” L’s voice is soft but firm. Light nods hastily and receives another swat. “I’d prefer you answer me out loud.”

“Yes,” Light says. “That’s—I’ve had enough.”

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, Ryuzaki.” His eyelashes stick together from tears and little sobs drop out still between Light’s words. “I’ve learned my lesson. I did.”

L lets go of Light’s arms and they fall to his sides. His wrists ache and his ass thuds in a deep red sort of hurt. Chastisement sinks with heavy hands clutching at his guts but Light can’t help the spark that starts in his lower half. A part of him preens from being put in his place. Few people would dare to touch him the way L has and it’s a bit exciting.

“Then apologize for your behavior.” L pats him again. “Go ahead.”

“I’m sorry for b-being a brat.”

“Good,” L says. “You did such a good job taking your spanking.”

He helps Light back up from over his knee and moves to let him stand. Instead, Light stays seated and leans forward until his forehead presses on L’s shoulder. A low hum echoes from him. He’s sure that his ass is hot on L’s thigh but very little of him cares.

“I was good?” Light whispers his question, almost hoping L doesn’t hear. An arm wraps around his waist and scoots up under his shirt.

“Very good.” Fingers drag on the skin above his hip and Light groans. “But next time you act out like that, I’ll bring you back to our bedroom and put you over my knee. That’s a promise.”

Light bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes. Promises, promises.


	26. i caught you masturbating (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> light catches L masturbating

Time had hit the late afternoon—late enough that the light through the living room window was tinged by dark blue—and L had gone to the bedroom to work. Light preferred to finish his things at his desk. All his materials were organized across the lacquered mahogany and settled his stomach in their neatness. But after an hour alone in their shared office, he grew restless and moved to the hallway. He curled his toes in his slippers while he play acted conflicted feelings for an audience of himself.

From their bedroom, L’s voice slipped little moans into the air. Light's ears perked up at the sound and he broke from the painting. One foot in front of the other, he walked in elegant steps to the doorway. L’s voice didn't grow in size but instead became clearer. He wasn’t saying anything like a sentence or a word. Grunts, guttural but soft, came between slicker sounds and both were familiar to him.

From the doorway, Light could see all of their bed. The covers were thrown into a mess on Light’s side of the bed while L laid flat with one hand pumping his naked dick. His laptop sat closed on the bedside table and his breath was quick, slipping in and out like paper blown in an air vent. His eyes were open, trailing over the ceiling until Light coughed. They flashed to where he stood and L waved his other hand.

“I thought you were working.” L didn’t stop masturbating but did sit up, stuttering his rhythm. “Is something wrong?”

“I got bored by myself.” Light shrugged and came to sit on the bed. His ass half hung off and his legs stuck out straight. He crossed them at the ankle where his sock started to sag. A sliver of skin showed. “Weren’t _you_ supposed to be working?”

“I finished.” Hand slowing, L sighed. “I was excited but I didn’t want to bother you while you worked. Seemed obnoxious.”

“Yeah.” Light scooted until he bumped against L’s legs and laid down over them. The knobs of L’s knees dug into his back while L came to a stop in his masturbation. “Why are you stopping?”

“No need to keep going,” L said. “Not worth it.”

“What were you thinking of?”

“What do you think?” A hand brushed through Light’s hair—thankfully a dry one. “I was thinking of you.”

Turning onto his side, Light met L’s gaze. With the room still dark, all the ridges and caves of L’s face were painted in ever darkening shadows. Light stroked a finger up the underside of L’s dick and lingered at the tip. He switched to his thumb and rubbed it over the skin there. Nothing in L’s expression changed but at his sides, his hands tightened on the sheets.

“Close your eyes,” Light said. “Lay back down.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.” Light leveraged himself up and wiggled until he could settle between L’s legs. He crawled over L until he hung over his face and dropped an easy kiss on his cheek. “Close them.”

The corner of L’s lip twitched but Light didn’t feel any irritation from him. Instead, L simply closed his eyes. Grinning, Light moved down and pressed his open mouth to L’s neck. He ran his tongue into the hollow beneath L’s chin. His teeth whispered over the jut of bone, softened by the give of L’s thin skin, and disappeared as Light closed his mouth into a small kiss.

“I want you to imagine me.” Light’s hands skimmed down L’s ribs and stopped to dig his thumbs into his waist. “Tell me what I’m doing.”

“Hm.” L lifted a hand and fumbled for a moment. He grasped at air until his hand hit Light’s face and slid down to cup his chin. “You’re kissing me. On the mouth.”

Light rose up and watched L part his lips in anticipation. Coming down gently, he lingered a half inch from L before licking over his open mouth. L’s breath caught in a tiny choke—just enough to widen his mouth until teeth showed—and Light dove down into a kiss.

When he first kissed L, he bit him on the tongue. He couldn’t help his insistent need. His heart raced so fast and his limbs were angry, desperate and pulling. Light remembered kissing L and wanting the kiss to melt them both into a wax puddle. Every kiss back then was fueled by a fear it would be the last and that the next morning L would just be the sunken mattress mark where he’d slept.

Now he kissed L slow and deep with all the time in the world. His hands moved into L’s hair and clutch, yanking him forward. Their lips slid against each other and L’s chapped ones scratched Light’s. A shaky moan wavered out of Light as L gave his tongue a small suck and then released it. When Light pulled back, L huffed out a few shallow moans of his own and his fingers flexed. He left them on Light’s face, pressed them to his cheeks and moved them over his features like he wanted his skin to remember what they felt like.

“Be careful,” Light said. “You might stick a finger in my nose.”

L put a finger to Light’s lips and pressed.

“I’m imagining you not talking.” A smile split L’s mouth to show his white chiclet teeth. “You’re moving down.”

Light puckered his lips and pecked L’s finger before L dragged his hands away. He set them on Light’s shoulders and shoved. Taking the hint, Light lowered himself to L’s chest and mouthed at the fabric.

Below, L’s dick rubbed against the crotch of Light’s pants and he whined as it left a damp mark there. A heat began to fill between his legs and swell in his cunt. Curling his fingers into the white cotton, he shoved L’s sweater up to reveal his bare chest and stomach while Light ground his hips into L’s. Squeaks of arousal clicked out of Light as he moved and shut his eyes to focus on his task.

Beneath his clothes, L was much less angular than implied by his icicle fingers and sharp chin. A little paunch rounded his stomach that, when Light kissed and sucked marks there, hid strong solid muscles. He licked over the red lines he left behind and L’s hands were on him again curling into his hair.

“How do you imagine me?” Light asked into L’s skin.

“Your mouth is red,” L said. “It looks like it tastes like cherries and when I kiss imaginary you, it always does. Your skin is bright and soft. You sound cruel but never to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your swords point outward,” L said. “Never inward. And that’s where I live.”

Light’s fingers shook where he held L’s waist and he dropped his forehead against L’s heaving chest. Mouth hung open, he had no words—only sounds and movement.

“Nothing to say?” L laughed. “How unexpected.”

“What do I do next?” Light’s voice dragged out of him in a long hoarse rope. A damp blanket of silence weighed him down further onto L while he waited for an answer. Skinny fingers, light and quick as spider limbs, skipped down to hold his chin again and tilt his face to meet L’s open eyes.

“You let me in,” L said. “And I stay there forever.”


	27. i can't sleep (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> light can't sleep so L tries to help him

Light has good hands. They are long fingered, soft palmed and bear the strange hollow smell of unscented lotion. He types with all his fingers running a short-form ballet as he looks through old case files and doesn’t stutter his movement. His hands are big but his fingers pinch into delicate lines. On the bed, his resting right hand will lay flat on the sheets with fingers spayed out into a star. Those hands are endlessly touchable.

Midnight is a long shadow over the living room but it’s broken by a single lamp. Next to the lamp, Light’s fingers are golden strokes flicking in and out of sight. He sews in nimble juts and digs while, from the hallway, L watches him.

When Light left the bed twenty minutes earlier, L had his laptop balanced on his knees and one eye squinted open. He watched him wander from their bedroom but waited to follow. Then, knees popping, he unfolded himself to walk down the hall and stand where he stood now.

“I can hear you,” Light says.

His rhythm doesn’t falter but instead stops as he looks over his shoulder. Blank but not unpleasant, Light’s expression is highlighted by his lips still a darker pink—the shade they became when he chewed them during nightmares—and his eyes moving over L in sharp, predatory swipes. But L isn’t hunted by those eyes. He’s only observed and calculated.

“What are you sewing?” L comes to the couch with his hands in his pockets. He peeks at what Light holds and gets his answer. It’s an old sweater of Light’s with a tear on the sleeve. Red thread has healed most of it although the end is still split and Light rubs one side between his fingers. His gaze doesn’t leave L’s face. “You could leave that for Watari, you know? He’s always mended my things.”

“I like to do this myself.” Light’s tone is even but its usual easy footstep is muddled. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Did you have a nightmare?” L comes around the side table and sits on the seat next to Light. He moves to bend his legs up but stops and lets them remain flat to the floor. Light snorts and starts to sew again. His hands fall between L’s view as he does.

“I hate when you do this,” he says. “Act like you don’t know what my every thought is.”

“I don’t.” L lets the word hang before he continues. “I wish I did.”

“Ha.” Light shakes his head and purses his lips. “Yes. I had a nightmare.”

“Will you tell me what it was about?”

“Something bad.” After this, Light adds nothing else. He pulls the needle high as he finishes the last stitch and bites the thread. It goes tight and then snaps between his teeth to hang limp from his mouth. L doesn’t enjoy painting pictures but the red string pressed between Light’s teeth is a sinew. For every action, he’s reminded he let a beast into his home.

Light sets the sweater aside along with his needle and thread. The smooth fabric—some cashmere L thinks—puddles from Light’s hands. Once finished, he tucks them into his lap and gives L his full attention. When the lamp light hits him, there is purple beneath his eyes.

“You don’t usually have trouble sleeping,” L says. “How bad was the dream?”

“No.” Light frowns. “I’m not going to talk about it.”

“If you don’t talk about it, then it’s going to stay,” L reached and tapped his finger to Light’s forehead, “right up there. Do you want to keep bad things in there?”

Light brushes L’s hand away. The movement carries him back until he’s slumped into the corner of the couch. His strings have been cut and Light sits quietly looking at L.

“I don’t want a therapy session with you,” he says. “That won’t chase the nightmare away.”

“I’ll have to try a different approach.” Coming up on one knee, L raises himself with one foot still on the ground and leans toward Light. He’s met in the middle by a kiss—a signal that he’s hit on the right answer—and he bends Light down flat to the couch.

His palms dig into Light’s hips and feel the tremors of Light struggling. A beast doesn’t naturally lie down for anyone but when L pushes harder, Light moans around his tongue. Hands, long fingered and soft palmed, rise to hold L’s face steady.

With a wet pop, L pulls from the kiss and turns his mouth to Light’s hands. He smells their clinical tenderness and kisses the palm. The kisses trail up the fingers until he reaches the tips. His tongue swipes over the clean edges of Light’s nails—not chewed in months—and he drops his mouth down onto Light’s index and middle finger. Working them shallowly in and out, he can hear groans puff from below him. He removes the fingers and a string of spit connects them to his tongue.

“Touch me,” Light says.

L moves and breaks the spit string. With the back of his forearm, he wipes it away and ducks down to lick at Light’s neck. One hand leaves Light’s hip and travels down to grip his thigh, hoist it to bend over L’s hooked arm. He leans further forward and in doing so, stretches Light’s leg up enough that it nearly touches his chest. Free on one side, Light starts to rock his hips into L in harsh, small digs.

“Be good to me,” Light says with his wet fingers pressed on L’s cheek. “Be good for me.”

L’s mouth stutters but doesn’t stop. He kisses the ridge of Light’s jugular and scrapes his teeth there. He inhales the scent of his spit on Light’s skin. Underneath him, a body rolls up and down to meet his and L shuts his eyes.

The hand on Light’s hip moves in harsh trembles to pull off Light’s briefs and yank them off the leg not bent. Cupping the heat of his crotch, L coaxes apart Light’s lips and rubs a circle around his clit. A short noise rips from Light that L wants to call sweet. He can feel wetness coming but it’s slow. The longer he plays with Light, the wetter he gets.

“I’ll be good for you,” he says as he works. “I’ll give you what you want and what you deserve. I’ll give you something to dream about.”

Light’s hands fly from L’s face to his arms as L sinks a finger inside him. It flicks in and out—a needle trying to pull Light back together as it breaks him apart.

“You’re all I dream about,” Light says. “Good. Bad. It’s just you.”

L slips his finger out and starts to tease Light’s clit again. He moves his hips to grind against the movement and finds he hears shorter and shorter breaths. Fragments of different names, all his own, are crumpled and falling out of Light whose leg wraps around L’s waist. A fever pitch beckons in how Light’s mouth hangs open, on how his neck is pinking from L’s mouth and how, when L presses a finger back into him, his pussy goes tight.

Light’s back arches and he is a yanked straight string for a single moment. The string snaps and he drops down, flexing around L’s finger in slow pulses. L sets Light’s leg down and stretches out his own arm. It’s gone stiff from how hard he’d been holding on. His elbow pops at the same time Light pops his own knee extending his leg.

“Will you sleep now?” L wipes his slick finger on Light’s thigh and leaves behind a wet letter “L.”

“Yes.” Light doesn’t open his eyes but his hand reaches out to grasp L’s wrist. “I’m going to have very good dreams.”


	28. skirts (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L has a fantasy about Light wearing a skirt

L keeps his fantasies in a rolodex in his head—ready for whenever he’s alone or bored. He flips through them as though choosing a dentist and each one is as good as the last. Sometimes he weeds out older ones, things or people he doesn’t want to imagine anymore. He reshuffles the order and places in new fantasies which are all about Light.

He doesn’t mind that Light is plain in bed. There’s enough enthusiasm in how he approaches sex that L doesn’t find a lack of kinky sex to be bad. He likes it in fact. Light comes into sex open with his feelings and doesn’t hide them in proclivities. But L still keeps thoughts that are less tame rattling around in his own head.

A favorite is Light in skirts. He imagines all sorts of skirts barely covering those long legs as they brush Light’s thighs in a gentle swoop. A fantasy might contain a tight miniskirt that nearly binds Light’s legs together in its shiny, taut fabric or a pleated tartan skirt that ripples when he walks. One particular fantasy has Light in a tennis skirt, glowing from a victorious match and crawling over L to receive his prize. This one haunts L with his thoughts turned to Light’s athletic body flexing beneath the stretch of spandex while his hair turns to slick, sweaty curls at his temples. Up his face cracks a manic smile Light can never stop and it makes him look aggressively handsome.

L closes his eyes and imagines his hands as they slide beneath the tennis skirt to brush the edge of Light’s briefs. His fingers run up to hook into the brief’s waistband to tug them down until they drop to the floor and he pushes Light’s legs open so he can duck under the skirt. Under there he presses into Light’s crotch and inhales, relishes the warm wetness there that must’ve built up during the match. Nothing quite compares to fucking Light after he’s had a victory. All his nerve ending are snapped by a reckless joy and receptive to what L gives them.

Through the fabric, Light grasps at L’s hair and tugs him further forward. His voice shakes as he tells L what he wants and how much he wants it. And L hooks Light’s legs over his shoulders and tips him onto his back to give him everything he’s asked for.

It’s all a fantasy—something to pass the time—and when L thinks about it, his thoughts never stray far enough that he thinks this is a reality. The actual idea of Light ever wearing a skirt is laughable. But nothing stops L from seeing Light stretch out to his full height and drawing a picture in his head of those legs bare beneath a spinning skirt, open for only him to touch.


	29. revenge (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> light insists L get his revenge after light flirts with someone else

The table dug into Light’s hips and was cold on his cheek. Eyes closed, he inhaled through his nose and out his mouth as fingers hooked into his pants waistband. L’s knuckles brushed on his skin, pointed and solid, as he dragged it down. It stretched over Light’s ass and dropped to his knees, bunching there. Air rose the hairs on his thighs and L held a hand—strangely warm—against his still clothed ass.

“Did you flirt with that agent on purpose?” Nothing cruel came through L’s voice. Instead, he sounded bored as though he was going through a routine interrogation.

“No,” Light said. “I wasn’t flirting.”

“I think we’re both aware you were,” L said. “And don’t treat me like an idiot. Light doesn’t hide from me very well anymore.”

Light didn’t move but groaned when L squeezed his ass to the point of pain. His eyes opened and rolled along with his head to look over shoulder at L.

“Are you mad at me?” He spoke without any question. The words were a demand. Light’s eyes darted over L’s face to find what he wanted hidden there but was disappointed. Any sort of anger had been shut away behind locked doors.

“No.”

“Not even about me telling that FBI agent how strong he looked?” A sinuous note of mischief entered Light’s voice and he let a grin start to cut the corner of his mouth. “Not even about me laughing at his jokes?”

“Did you think they were funny?”

“Of course not.” Light let out a ragged snort. “He’s an FBI agent. He’s just as incompetent in his jokes as he is at his job.”

A pinch on his thigh startled out a squeak from Light and his cheeks began to grow pink. L leaned down on him with his chest pressed to Light’s back. His hand slipped between Light’s legs and edged them apart.

“Do you want me to be mad at you?” L’s question was quiet as he whispered into Light’s ear. His hands came to cover Light’s. “Use your words for me.”

“Mm.” Light flexed his fingers as L intertwined his own fingers with them. Together their hands made twin fists. “Mad? Maybe not. But don’t you want some revenge? For my behavior?”

“Revenge?” The air went cold on Light’s face as L lifted his head and took with him his hot breath. Light frowned until L kissed the top knob of his spine. “Is that what you want from me?”

Light’s eyelids fluttered and he rolled against L. The ridge of L’s dick, firm but still growing harder, brushed on his ass. With a squeeze, Light tried to let go of L’s fingers but found his hands were held fast. He squirmed and turned his head. His mouth opened enough that his teeth peeked out from under his lips.

“Isn’t it what I deserve?”

Light caught L’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucked. He let it go to chase the bite with a kiss. Under his mouth, L parted and slipped his tongue inside. While Light groaned into the kiss, one hand holding him down released and trailed back to his ass. L patted him and then the warm hand disappeared only come back down in a sharp slap. Light broke the kiss as a choked yelp tumbled out of him followed by another as he was spanked again.

“I supposed it’s less what you deserve,” L said. “And more what I deserve. Do I deserve to see you flirt with boring Americans?”

His answer was the jump of Light’s thigh when he brought his hand down once again. The noises Light made became muffled as he turned his face into the table but his body still rolled into L’s hand.

“Do I deserve it when you tease me?” L continued in a soft monotone. His voice never reached a pitch of anger but instead simmered with indulgence. He spanked Light again and earned a gasp wet from tears. “Do I deserve to punish you?”

Light groaned and bent into an arch at another smack. His ass was forest fire that stole all the air from his body and burned deep in his skin. A hand wrapped around his neck but didn’t squeeze. L dug his thumb underneath Light’s chin and forced it up. Breathing quickening, Light’s throat shrank and expanded to fill into L’s hold.

“Use your words for me.” L repeated his earlier request but it became a demand. He didn’t stop his rhythm for a moment. “Do I deserve to get revenge?”

“Yes.” The word dragged out of Light as though his tongue had been ripped out. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

L’s hand went still on Light’s ass and he let go of his throat. Light dropped his forehead to the table and drew in rough breaths. Leftover sobs still trickled out of him. Pressing his hands flat, he pushed himself up and stretched to his full height. Every movement made a sting scream through his lower half but he rotated to face L anyway. Now pooled at his feet, Light stepped out of his pants and kicked them to the side. His hands scrambled to hold L’s face and bring it to his, kissing him hard.

“Yes,” he repeated. “You deserve it. You deserve it. You deserve me.”

“We deserve each other.” L spoke into the kiss and his voice echoed in Light’s mouth. “No more revenge.”

“No more revenge.” Light hummed and let his hands fall to L’s waist. He thumbed the outline of L’s hipbones through his jeans. Throughout his body sang an anxious need be wanted. He wanted a reminder like the red handprints formed on his ass to be given to him in tenderness. “I want something else.”

“And what do you want?” L put his hands up Light’s sweater and spayed his thin fingers on his bare stomach. “What do you get?”

Light dropped back from L’s mouth and slid his fingers to undo the top button of L’s jeans. He unzipped them and ground his palm to L’s hard dick tenting his boxers.

“You liked that.” He smirked through his words. “Do you like to put your hands on me? Leave their heat on me even when they don’t touch my skin?”

“You shouldn’t answer a question with a question.” L’s voice stuttered as Light took him from his boxers. His dick curved into Light’s hand, growing wet at the tip but the shaft still dry. “Answer me first.”

“I get what you give me,” Light said. “And you give me everything. So give me an answer to my question.”

Harsh breathing filled the silence between them while L didn’t speak. His hands were at his sides and, when he moved them, the one he’d spanked Light with was flushed pink on the palm. Light braced himself to be grabbed and pushed backward—to be manhandled onto the table. Instead, L brought his hands up to cup Light’s face. They were warm.

“I’d like to leave no part of you untouched,” he said. “I’d like to cover you in my touch so you never forget what it feels like. But not in revenge.”

Light blinked and licked his lips. He looked over L’s face, again searching for what he wanted, and found it lacquered over every feature. All that wanting—grasping and caressing—came out to stab into Light’s skin and bleed him out. Releasing L’s dick, he wrapped his fingers around the pink palmed hand and kissed it. Sentences came to his head, as they always did, to meet L in conversation but he couldn’t speak them.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. In that moment, all he wanted was to be touched.


	30. post-argument (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and Light have an argument then have apology sex

Since his new case started, L would leave the house at eight a.m. to travel into London and then return around four. His first visit would always be to the bedroom in hopes of finding Light in some sort of exciting position but his second was to his office. They were in the process of making the room a dual office so he wasn’t surprised to find Light in there instead of the bedroom.

Papers laid in stray stacks over the office’s hardwood floor with the largest concentration being to the front of his bookshelf. In the middle of the small skyscrapers of manila folders and loose notes, Light bent over to reach the second lowest shelf. His sweater lifted and exposed a cut of skin right above his jeans’ waistband.

Despite the show of skin, most of L’s attention held fast to Light’s jeans. He wore high waisted jeans and his lifted sweater left the whole length of his denim clad ass on display. When he leaned over further, the center seam rode up. L averted his gaze to the floor.

Something about Light in jeans was alluring. He didn’t wear casual pants often and when he did, they tended toward khakis. His jeans weren’t like the ones L wore either. L liked a loose fit, a little give to the crotch and plenty of room to accommodate his seated position. Light’s jeans clung. They weren’t tight enough to outline his entire lower half. Instead they breathed just against his skin. He didn’t have holes in them and there were no frays at the end. Light’s jeans were as neat as the rest of him.

L sauntered into the room with footsteps as quiet as he could manage. Once he was near enough to hear him breathing, L smacked his hand to Light’s ass.

“Hello,” he said.

“That’s unnecessary.” Light looked over his shoulder with cheeks flushed as he stood. In his hand was a darker file folder with a sticker label written in L’s own blocky hand. While his hand remained planted where it was, L squinted at the folder. Those were his case files. Air began to siphon out of his lungs and he glanced around. His movements were unhurried while in his head L’s thoughts bounced with anxiety. That stack of papers was his case files and so was the other stack. In a mounting, horrible internal frenzy, L realized what Light was doing.

“Why do you have all my things all over the floor?” He spoke with his tongue snapping out each word. “What are you doing?”

“I’m reorganizing them.” Light set the folder in his hand onto a tower to his left. It wobbled but he steadied it gently. “I noticed they were all over the place so I thought it’d make a good afternoon project.”

“Those are my files.” L’s pitch hit a whine earlier than he meant it to but he didn’t stop. He took his hand from Light’s ass and grabbed the top paper from a lower stack. “You’ve just—you messed them up. They’re completely out of order.”

“No.” Light turned around with an indulgent expression. He snatched the paper from L’s hand and shook it at him. “They _were_ out of order but now they won’t be. It’s an easy system I’m putting them in.”

“I had them in a system already.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, L stepped back and inhaled deeply. He shut his eyes. A hunk of anger formed in his throat that he tried to force down and knew if he physically looked at Light, he’d vomit that hunk up. “Didn’t you think, at all, that I had them that way for a reason? Did you even consider that?”

“I thought you’d be happy.” On a sharp note, Light’s voice betrayed his own frustration increasing. L’s anger pulsed and begged to come out. He swallowed but only succeeded in lodging the anger deeper in his throat.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “You’re being avoidant.”

“I’m not,” Light said, teeth snapping after his words. “I don’t understand the problem. I’m doing you a favor. You’re being unreasonable.”

L’s eyes snapped open. They flicked onto Light like the tick of an hour hand and held him still. With claws that ripped into the soft flesh of his mouth, anger tore its way out and, sick of holding back, L let it go.

“I’m unreasonable?” His voice, even to his ears, was loud. Light’s mouth, which had been open to interrupt, shut into a line tight with unease. “You are absolutely unfathomable, Light. What would make you think I wanted my things sorted through? What, on God’s green Earth, would make you think I’d want _you_ to mess around in my private files and reorder them to your liking?”

“I—,” Light started but shut his mouth again as L continued. His shoulders were stiff and grew stiffer as L’s volume increased. The paper in his hands creased were he gripped it until it became a fan-like crumple.

“Has there ever been a moment where you’ve thought about someone else?” L knew he was close to shouting but he couldn’t stop himself. His voice was a needle piercing fabric to stitch together a miles long blanket of gripes. “You just don’t consider people, do you? Or maybe you do and then you just think you’re obviously smarter than them. Because that’s the only reason I can see for you to go through my work and refit everything into the Light Yagami system.”

“I thought you’d be happy,” Light repeated himself in a quieter voice. L took a long inhale and let the air out slow. His arms hung in rigid lines at his sides. When he spoke again, the shout had left L’s voice but the anger lingered beneath.

“Did you ever consider, Light, that what you think people want and what they actually want might be two different things?”

He let silence swallow up the space after he finished. Light had squeezed the paper into nothing but wrinkles and his gaze was to the floor. Bangs swept over his face to block his expression but L read anxiety in the way Light breathed.

His discomfort was paradoxically pleasing and disorienting for L to watch. He wanted Light to feel upset for a moment and to feel guilty. But he hated the way guilt looked on Light. It shrunk him into a hard peach pit and never got him to apologize anyway. Instead, guilt made Light retreat into a dim corner of himself to wait until whatever crime he was accused of blew over. So L watched and waited for the inevitable storm out and quiet, resentful click of the bedroom door shutting.

Light opened his hand and the sweaty paper fell. His breathing remained unsteady but he brought his head up in stages. His eyes, a little red but not sunken into tears, filtered through his bangs and appeared soft instead of angry.

“I’m sorry.” The words were dragged out in a sand paper voice. “I should’ve asked you.”

“Yes.” L shuffled in place and tucked his hands in his pockets. His heart slowed into its own place of guilt. “Well.”

“I know it’s not an excuse,” Light said. “But I thought that maybe we were at this point.”

“What point?”

“I don’t know.” Light’s lower lip bulged as he ran an anxious tongue over his bottom teeth. “A point of trust? I thought maybe I didn’t have to ask because you just trusted me not to mess your things up.”

“It’s not about trust,” L said. “It’s about—look. There’s trust issues between us. That’s a fact. But this situation is about you not trusting me to do what’s best for my own work. Do you get that?”

“Mm.” Light shifted his weight from one foot to the other and sighed. “Yes.”

“Are you lying?”

“Could you not accuse me of lying every time I answer something?” Light rolled his eyes and leaned back on the bookshelf. The apologetic tilt of his body language disappeared and a strange relief fell over L. Penitent Light was good and needed but this was much more familiar. He stepped forward and into Light’s space.

“I’ll consider it.” L dropped a little and wrapped both arms around Light’s thighs. He squeezed and then grunted as he hoisted him up until Light’s feet left the ground. “Do you know what I think?”

Stunned and strong fingers dug into L’s shoulders as Light tried to stop himself from tipping over them. He cast a frown down to L’s responding grin and his grip tightened.

“Would saying no do any good?”

“People do say that actions speak louder than words,” L said. “And I think there’s a few actions that might work as a supplemental apology.”

He started out the door with Light still in his arms. Every few steps Light huffed but didn’t squirm in L’s hold. His hands loosened by the time they passed through into the bedroom and slipped into L’s hair.

A stunned gasp escaped Light as L dropped him to the bed. He was alone on it for a moment before L crawled over him and slid his hands underneath Light’s back. They pushed him up and Light met L’s mouth in a small kiss. Their mouths separated with a pop as L pulled away. Light’s hands hastily tugged at the button of his own jeans but L stopped him.

“Leave them on.” L moved a hand from Light’s back to squeeze his ass though the denim. “I like you in these.”

Light moaned under his breath as L’s other hand joined and dug into the meat of his ass. He bucked his hips until L moaned as well. Heat built in the friction of their lower halves and L’s dick started to harden. One leg hooked over his hip and Light tugged him flat to his crotch. In the flutter of L’s imagination, he thought he felt the heat of Light’s arousal come through his jeans.

“Hand or mouth?” Light breathed through his words. Blinking, L fumbled to put together what Light said with an actual meaning.

“Hand.” He choked the decision out and was met with a snipping laugh. Light dragged his hand down L’s stomach and stopped at his waistband. His nimble fingers undid the button and zipper of L’s jeans before yanking down his boxers.

L’s dick stood half hard while Light drew his hand back and spat into it. He wrapped it around the shaft and pumped it. Breath growing labored, L rocked his hips until he was almost fucking into Light’s hand. He pulled his arms out from under Light to prop himself up on the elbows and hovered right over Light’s face. As Light started to talk, L studied the bounce of his lips around each syllable.

“I’m sorry,” Light said. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about what you wanted. I was being selfish.”

“Yes.” L’s voice was hoarse and gasping. “So selfish.”

“Is this good?” A weak groan broke Light’s speech as L stroked a finger against his cheek. “Am I being good?”

“Very good.” L nodded as he moved his finger down Light’s cheek to push into his mouth. He hummed as Light closed his mouth and sucked on it gently. Curling it, he rubbed his finger pad against Light’s tongue before taking it out. “So good at apologizing.”

“Can you forgive me?” Light didn’t sound in the least bit apologetic as he thumbed over L’s tip. “Will you ever forgive me?”

“Finish your job here.” L ducked down to kiss the smirk from Light’s mouth. “Then we’ll talk about forgiveness.”


	31. piggy back ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L gives Light a drunken piggy back ride

L swung into a brick wall and slid down. While his brain spun in cartoonish circles, his sweater rode up and exposed his strawberry patterned boxers. Next to him, Light dropped his ass on the concrete and leaned his head on L’s shoulder.

“I don’t feel good,” Light mumbled into L’s collarbone. “I drank too much.”

“You drank enough.” L patted Light’s head. “I’m just as inebriated as you but that won’t get me down. We need to keep going.”

“Why are you only motivated when we bar hop?” Light’s hand pressed to the small of L’s back and rubbed a soft circle. L leaned into his hand and let his arm come around Light’s shoulders to tug him close.

“Because I like to drink every once in a while,” L said. “And when I do, I drink to win.”

Light snorted and then groaned. The hand at L’s back flexed as he whined and L tried to peek at Light’s face. His bangs obscured most of his features except for his lips pressed thin. Sweat collected at his temples. L brought his thumb to one temple and stroked down through Light’s damp sideburn.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just a little off right now,” Light said. “Give me a second. I’ll be okay.”

“Well,” L said. “The bars close at two a.m. and it is one now. There’s not time to wait.”

Light jammed a finger into L’s side.

“You little brat.” His frown crept into a simpering smile. “You want to go to the next bar? Carry me.”

“Fine.” L scrambled up and bent over, arms hooked at his sides. “Hop on.”

Light got to his feet cautiously and put his hands onto L’s shoulders. One at a time, he lifted a leg up and L slid his arm under Light’s thigh. His fingers were warm and dug into the meat of Light’s inner thigh, sending a short thrill through L’s lower half. When both legs were off the ground, L gave them a little jolt to adjust Light’s position. Without thinking, Light wrapped his arms around L’s neck like a loose, heavy scarf. His breath puffed against L’s ear in warm pushes and L imagined all the processes inside Light’s body that churned to make that breath. He loved every organ inside of that body.

“Are you ready?” L tapped his fingers against Light and stood a little taller. “We’ve got the rest of the night ahead of us.”

“Onward.” Light’s arm shot out to point into the distance. “To five-dollar pitcher drinks.”


	32. lap sitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the van is too full, Light has to sit on L's lap

Light could just about kill the person who suggested the whole taskforce ride together to the crime scene. But then he would be killing the lead detective who already thought he was a murderer so he suffered in silence. Or near silence.

“There’s not going to be enough room in this van,” Light said. “We’re going to be cramped.”

“You’re using up a lot of energy to complain about this very simple matter.” L looked over his shoulder as he climbed into the car after Mogi. “We won’t be in the car long enough for any of that to be a problem.”

“It’s annoying.” Light braced a hand on the car’s door frame and hefted himself up. Inside the car, every member of the taskforce was shoved against each other like a tightly packed container of suited sardines. He peeked around, looking for some sort of cranny he could fit in. “Is there another back seat?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Soichiro turned around from the front seat. “The smaller model was all we could find on short notice.”

“But where am I going to sit?” Light glanced around again. “The floor?”

“That’s too dangerous,” Soichiro said. “Perhaps you could sit on someone’s lap.”

Every molecule of air fled from Light’s body, leaving him flattened into the most pure concentration of shock. That shock shifted into upset disbelief as Matsuda laughed and patted his own thigh.

“You can always sit with me,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

“It would make more sense for Light to sit on me.” L’s voice slunk up from where he was squished at the end of the seat. “The chain might get tangled otherwise.”

A volley of angry thoughts jostled the inside of Light’s brain as his features cracked into a patient smile. Causing a scene wouldn’t benefit him and L would only use it to call him childish. In a sharp, efficient turn, he dropped onto L’s lap as hard as he could. The hard gasp his body weight knocked out of L was a weak band aid on Light’s wounded pride.

As the car moved, their chain jingled with every turn and bump. All the taskforce talked to each other about family and after work activities while L and Light remained silent. Light’s mind built a wall around his growing awareness of how warm L’s body was, how he couldn’t stop imagining a phantom dick pressing on his ass and a near shameful desire to lean back on the detective. His hands clasped each other so firmly in his lap that his nails bit into his knuckles but Light used the pain to distract himself.

Lost in his thoughts, Light grunted as the car drove over a deep pothole. He went up as the car jumped after the hole but strong, spindly hands clutched his hips. L pulled him back down hard and held Light still. The wall Light built developed a leak at the feeling those hands pressed to him—only thin fabric separating them from his skin. He held a hand against the leak but only felt it grow stronger as L didn’t loosen his grip. Warm, cherry red heat flushed Light’s cheeks and he was thankful that night kept the van dark.

“Are you alright?” L spoke softly as though he didn’t want to expose Light’s jump.

“Fine.” Light had his finger pressed to his mouth, nail already between his teeth. “I’m fine.”


	33. dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L shows Light how to dance

Spending every day with someone can make a person curious and Light was more prone to curiosity than most. He pressed L for small facts—things that wouldn’t shake up suspicion—and got few answers in return.  

He’d been allowed to keep his Walkman upon being confined and chained to L. Next to him, L balanced his laptop on his knees and Light closed his eyes. His headphones pinched and the cushion was thin enough that the speaker dug its ridges into his ears. Music covered the tedious rhythm of L’s typing while Light tapped his fingers to the beat. A question prodded him and he slipped his headphones around his neck. His music continued to play as he sat up—a metal band that he enjoyed but never discussed with anyone.

“Do you ever listen to music?” His question caused L’s fingers to pause over the keyboard. “I don’t see you listening to it very often.”

“I have a few songs I enjoy.” L spoke in short steps as though unsure if he were revealing too much. The laptop wobbled and he caught it before it fell. “I prefer classical but I also like pop songs. Anything that has a nice melody.”

“Oh.” Light brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. His Walkman, pulled to his stomach by his knees, vibrated as the CD still spun. “Do you work to those songs?”

“Sometimes.” Silence hung for a moment before L spoke. In his voice, a door creaked open. “Sometimes I dance.”

“Dance?”

“Watari had me take classes. My education was fairly comprehensive.” L shut his laptop and put it on the bedside table. He faced Light and held out a hand. “Would you like me to show you?”

Light went still, tinny screamo echoing off his throat, and stared at L’s hand. Lines ran over his palms like a stone slicked and worn by the river it stood in. Instead of taking it, he nodded his affirmative answer and removed his headphones.  

As he pressed pause on his Walkman, L got up to rummage in his things. Piled around their room in the taskforce building were devices over years of investigations. Half of them had no use and the other half L was strict about him not touching. Out of a pile in the left corner, L pulled out a battered boombox covered in faded stickers for bands Light’s never heard of. L plugged it in and then went back to the pile to get a dusty CD holder. He flipped through it for a moment before he found what he wanted.

“This is an older American song.” L dropped the CD into the boombox and skipped through the tracks. At every skip, the CD buzzed a bit. “It’s slower than what you listen to but I think it’s good for a simple partner dance.”

Light didn’t dwell on the implication that L knew his music taste and instead focused on the term partner dance. Did L mean to dance  _with_  Light? Bright pops of piano played over a woman’s long singing dragged out lyrics about sweet dreams. He caught every other word, unable to focus enough to translate English with L holding out his hand again. Light hesitated but took it and let L pull him close. Fingers wrapped and squeezed around his hand while L put his other hand on Light’s waist. They swayed and stepped in time while the music played.

“Not such a hard dance,” Light said. “I don’t think you needed to take lessons to learn this one.”

“I’m starting from your level.” L’s breath brushed Light’s cheek as he spoke and his hold was suddenly heavy. It dented Light’s skin and conjured images of finger imprints left behind there for weeks. “I suspected Light might not be as adept as me.”

“I’m not a bad dancer.”

“I didn’t say that. Only that you’re not as good as me.”

Light rolled his eyes but as the song continued, warmth built between their chests despite the space still splitting. The sway blurred Light’s thoughts and he leaned into the movement until he was pressed against L. Without thinking, he ducked his head and let it fall onto L’s shoulder. His cheek was pushed up by the bony jut of L’s knobby ball joint. Clasped together, his and L’s palms grew sweaty and Light imagined L’s river stone lines leading into the lines on Light’s palm.  

He didn’t notice the song ending and slinking into the next one. If L did, he didn’t stutter in his rhythm enough for Light to catch. Their dance continued through crackling music from two step to two step without a word spoken. It was very quiet to be alive at that moment.


	34. hair stroking and lap sitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and Light talk about L's hair

Sometimes Light wondered how L ever let his hair grow so long. His own hair wasn’t short by any means but L’s hair licked down his neck and spun into all directions. While at first appearing pointed, Light knew from close observation that L’s hair was curlier and a strand could be spun around his finger. As L breathed against his neck, Light poked his finger through a loose curl and dragged it down.  

“You should cut your hair.” Light let out a quiet whine as L adjusted his position in Light’s lap. He continued to stroke through his long hair while L gave off pleased vibrations. “You don’t manage it enough for it to be long.”

“Ah.” L shook his head further into Light’s hand. “I like my hair long. So do you. You’re only complaining for the aesthetic of yourself.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” Thumb pressed to his bottom lip, L brought his finger up to poke Light’s cheek. Light fought down a sigh and laughed instead. It was bright and plastic as he gave L’s hair a hard tug.

“Either cut your hair,” he said. “Or wear a ponytail. It’s long enough for one anyway.”

“Perhaps I will.” L leaned so his back was propped against the couch arm. Light slipped his hand from L’s hair and put his elbow on the arm as well. His fist held up his chin as they both quietly thought about L wearing a ponytail. “What if I wore it in a bun?”

“Hm.” Light nodded. “What about braids?”

“That would look nice,” L said. “Do you think Sayu would teach me how?”

“She’d love it.” Light thought of the text Sayu sent him earlier asking when the next time he and L were visiting. She was just as fascinated by L’s personality as Light and thought it was endlessly funny when L tripped Light up. His gaze flickered down to take in every feature of the man seated on him. Wasn’t it funny that L, a strange foreigner who hadn’t a speck of social understanding, charmed both the Yagami siblings? Or maybe it wasn’t funny. Maybe L was just that interesting.

“If I start wearing braids and ponytails,” L said, “would you wear them with me?”

“My hair isn’t long enough.”

“Yet.” L tugged gently on the back of Light’s hair and he squeaked in surprise. Light bated L’s hand away and caught it by the wrist before L could snatch it back. For a moment, L play acted a struggle but went still as Light pressed his lips to his fingertips. Teeth peeked out and gave L’s middle finger a tender bite before kissing it.

“I’m not growing my hair out so we can have matching braids,” Light said. “We’re not that couple.”

“How sad.” L poked Light’s lips as though coaxing his teeth back out. “I’d hoped to see you in a nice bun. You’d look very handsome.”

Light stuck out his tongue, brushing against the fingers there for a moment, and let go of the wrist he held. He used his free hand to push back L’s bangs and bent over to kiss his forehead. Beneath warm skin, he felt the hard press of L’s skull. Just enough pressure and he could crack it, split him open and see his brain leak out. Light lifted his lips up to soften the kiss and turned his head to lean his cheek against L’s forehead.

“I’ll see how it looks on you,” he said. “Then maybe I’ll grow it out.”


	35. things you said when you were drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> light is drunk in a bathroom talking to L through the mirror and also afterlife

Light rested his cheek on the cold mirror glass with his cell phone gripped in his hand. Circles danced around when he closed his eyes and he regretted the last one, no, three beers he drank. The cans stood as crushed aluminum columns on the sink counter while he took shallow breaths. What to do next?

“I’m going to call him.” Light breathed his words onto the glass and let them fog his image. “Let’s—let’s call that idiot.”

He flicked his phone open with his thumb and dialed. Looking wasn’t necessary. Numbers became a dizzy song in his head as Light punched them in and pressed the phone to his ear. A numb buzz silenced the song as he waited.

Dial tone drones pumped Light’s drunken anxiety. His chest swelled and Light pushed himself further against the mirror. A gentle turn and he was kissing his reflection’s cold mouth. Eyes shut and he could kiss someone else, someone who had hands to touch him and tug him around. Before he could let those phantom hands skirt along his skin, a pop signaled that L picked up the phone.

“Hello again.” Light’s voice was languid and dripped from his teeth. “Do you miss me, Ryuzaki?”

Silence dragged after until interrupted by a hesitant cough. When Light tried to stand up straighter, his cheek stuttered on the mirror and left a streak of spit behind. So L wanted to play the quiet partner? Fine. Light could talk enough for both of them.

“You’re not going to talk to me?” Light snorted. “You just want me to beg, don’t you? Beg you to talk? I won’t. If you want to hear that, you’ll have to come here and make me say please.”

Nothing replied to him and Light’s anger whistled. He smacked a hand on the mirror and the sting echoed through his entire arm.

“Don’t be stupid,” he hissed. “This isn’t any fun. I miss when you were fun.”

Something on the other side of the call was knocked over and a stranger’s voice, not L’s, swore. Confusion muddled Light’s senses before cold realization shot through his spine. Oh, so L had someone else over? That fool thought Light was replaceable and still let him go on like this. Bile rose in Light’s throat. He opened his mouth, ready to let himself bleed into the phone, when the stranger spoke up.

“I’m sorry, uh, sir?” A weedy note of apprehension colored the stranger’s quick English. “I think you might have the wrong number. I’m going to hang up now but I hope your, um, friend gets back to you.”

Light didn’t hear the call disconnect. He already let go of the phone and dropped it into the sink. An enormous clatter shook him from his dizzy mix of anger and Light stumbled from the bathroom counter. Right. Of course. The number wasn’t the same. Unsteady on his feet, Light collected all the facts he knew and put them in a list to ground himself. One, he knew it was midnight from checking his watch. Two, he knew he was in his and Misa’s apartment by the sad, limp flowers Misa left in a vase on the sink. Three, he knew L was dead because the number wasn’t the same. If L were alive, he would’ve answered. He always answered.

 _Fuck,_ he thought.  _Better luck next time, I guess._

With his thumb and forefinger, Light flicked a beer can into the trash.


	36. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L overhears Light's family phone call

Every Tuesday evening, Light had a phone call with his family for about two hours. Nothing about the time was significant but once Light got into a rhythm, he didn’t like stepping outside of it. He confined himself to their kitchen while L remained in the office where he pretended he didn’t want to hear everything Light said.

L’s finger skated across his laptop keyboard and his stomach grumbled. Light was an hour into his call and by the end of the next hour, L might be passed out from hunger. Whatever information he had been reading blurred together as visions of strawberries and a hot cup of tea clustered in the forefront of his mind. That was enough. He couldn’t stand it anymore. Whatever hold Light had on the kitchen needed to be broken in order for the world to retain its greatest detective.

Putting on the cat slippers Light got him, L padded out into the hall and toward the kitchen. Light’s voice carried out the doorway in clear and narcissistic notes. From what L caught, his current one sided conversation was with Sayu. Hand curled around the doorframe, L came around the corner and Light’s words became clearer. At their sound, L’s eyebrow raised. Ah. So the discussion now was about him.

“Ryuzaki and I are thinking about coming out soon,” Light said. “Yes, I’ve talked to him about this. Well, I don’t know how Mom and Dad are going to act but he’s going to come anyway.”

L inched in closer and strained to hear Sayu’s response. He had no luck but Light responded quickly enough to cover it.

“Sayu.” Light let out a long sigh. “I know that it makes them uncomfortable but this is important to me. It’s important that they know who I’m in love with and I just want them to, ha, love him too.”

The kitchen was quiet before Light spoke again, this time in a tone that matched the previous silence.

“Please don’t tell anyone this, okay. Especially not Ryuzaki.”

L’s limbs froze and his bones shifted as he edged back from the doorway. As he moved, the strong line of Light’s back became a softer and softer curve until he couldn’t see it anymore. Food could wait another hour.


	37. things you said when we were the happiest we ever were

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L orders coffee and treats for himself and Light

L didn’t understand lip rings. They didn’t look good enough to make up for the pain that probably came with getting one. The barista tongued at hers and rolled a disgusted look at him, fingers tapping on the register. Behind him, a woman in knock-off Gucci sunglasses huffed and L wished he had just dragged Light along with him.

“They don’t have the chocolate croissant,” he said. “You’ll have to get something else.”

“I don’t like their other stuff.” Light’s voice wormed its way through the phone. “Is there anything new?”

“They have some cookies that look like tulips.” L stretched to look through the pastry case again. “How festive. Spring looks delicious.”

“Hm.” A rapid pulse of pen clicks told L that Light was impatient with himself. He couldn’t stand indecision, including his own, and L rarely saw Light more upset than when dealing in unstable variables. “I guess. Yes. I’ll take one of those.”

“Good.” L nodded at the barista and she sighed, straightening up and holding a hand over the register to put the order in. “Drink order the same?”

“Iced vanilla latte,” Light recited. “One extra espresso shot and another shot of hazelnut.”

“That’s the one.” Hand fumbling in his back pocket, L sucked on his teeth and yanked his wallet out. Overstuffed with receipts and punch cards, it sunk a small weight in his palm. “Is that all?”

Light was quiet and, across from him, the barista shot arrows in L’s chest. She didn’t come up any further than that. Clicking his tongue, Light filled the phone call with the noise of thinking.

“No,” he said. “Just the Starbucks and you will be fine. I’ll let you get to it. Love you.”

A soft vibration of warmth spread through L’s chest. Those easy words left him gutted and then filled by grand happiness. If he could hear Light say “love you” a thousand times, the sound would never become threadbare or break. Always it would cover him like his first winter coat and remain just as fine.

“Love you too,” L said. “See you at home.”

He hung up and relayed Light’s order to the barista. She typed it in, mouth moving as though she were cursing under her breath, and then glanced back to him.

“Anything else?”

L hummed and scanned the menu on the wall. A terrible smile played on his lips.

“I don’t know yet,” he said. “I just need a second to decide.”


	38. things you didn’t say at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light receives a letter from his university under his dead name

Breakfast was quiet. Light added another creamer to his coffee and across from him, L sucked sugar off his grapefruit. All the noise in the room came from the clicking of the handcuffs against the dining table.

Watari came in and dropped the day’s mail onto the table. It slid from his hand like a magician’s card deck. Light peered at the envelopes to see what had come but L snatched all of it before anything was revealed. With them pinched between his thumb and forefinger, L examined each piece before dropping it to the table. Once it hit the surface, Light reached over L’s grapefruit and took the mail.

Most of the envelopes were junkmail—questionnaires from credit card companies, magazine subscription renewal notices, grocery ads—and Light grunted in frustration. He tossed the useless papers aside and sipped his coffee in sharp slurps. Nothing good ever came in the mail, not that he could see.

The steady sound of L dropping envelopes stalled and Light glanced from his spiteful coffee drinking. A wide and thick envelope blocked L’s visage but not the curious hum he made as he looked at it. He released one end and dangled the envelope in the air. His wide eyes became narrowed as he studied the address.

“It’s from To Oh.” The mail swung in L’s grasp. “It’s for a—”

He trailed off but icicles crawled through Light’s heart. His skin roiled as nothing but harsh, frightened blood started to gush through his head. No. He hadn’t had time, not in the rush of college and Kira, to fix it. L’s mouth was a slow-motion picture and his lips threatened to line themselves around a knife blade of a name. Already Light felt it slip between his ribs while he waited for L to say his dead name. He wondered what it would sound like in his  _friend’s_ voice.

But the sound never came. L’s eyes fixed on the letter and he frowned. He took hold of the other envelope end again and, between his thin fingers, ripped the letter in half. Light set his coffee down harder than he’d meant to and some splashed on the table.

“They’ve addressed this to the wrong person.” L threw both halves of the letter to the side and went back to half gnawing on his sad grapefruit. “I’ll have Watari inform the school tomorrow of their error and make sure they are correct in further relations. Permanently.”

Light’s heart ran circles in his chest both with relief and a strange new feeling. It bloomed first in his chest then in his guts where it lifted him into looking directly at L. He couldn’t place a finger on the feeling but knew it was something to hold onto.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Of course.” Sugar crusted L’s mouth as he spoke. “Do you want the rest of this? I don’t think I actually like grapefruit.”


	39. I tried to surprise you but I spilled your coffee on the way over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L makes coffee for Light while they're on an airplane

Plane flights gave Light pressing headaches. His skull thumped like a little man stomping through snow while he sat in the plush seat of L’s private jet. Every once in a while, he peeked an eye open to scan for L but he quickly shut it. Groaning, he shifted and tried not to think about how high up he was.

A short yelp disturbed his not-thinking and Light peeked again. When he didn’t see anything immediately, he chanced looking over the seat back. In the jet’s kitchenette, L stood cursing with arms wide. Over his white sweater a huge brown stain grew. He swore again and glanced to Light.

“Ah.” He held up an empty mug. It had a picture of Garfield in a nightshirt complaining about Mondays marred by long coffee drips. “I apologize for waking you.”

“You didn’t.” Light’s voice wavered and his fingers tightened on the seat back. Waves of dizziness were stayed by curiosity. “What happened?”

“I tried to surprise you,” L said. “But I spilled your coffee on the way over.”

Despite his confession, L didn’t look sheepish. Instead, annoyance turned over his features and it was directed toward the mug. Light snorted and then groaned at the nausea that restarted. He slumped back into his seat and shut both eyes. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he listened to L play with the coffee machine again and click his tongue as he did so. To calm himself Light imagined L’s slim cool fingers fluttering from machine to cup and took a deep breath.

After a few minutes, L’s deliberate footsteps approached him and a soft press signaled him taking the seat next to Light. When Light opened his eyes, L presented him with the Garfield mug. He wasn’t wearing his sweater and, for a moment, Light found himself distracted by the expanse of L’s chest.

“Surprise.” A smile, no bigger than a pinkie nail, edged on L’s lips. “Two creamers and a half teaspoon of sugar. Just for you.”

Light returned it and took the mug. He brushed L’s knuckles as he did so and let his touch linger. His gaze dragged over L and noticed a blush form on his cheeks.

“Perfect,” he said. “All for me.”


	40. I never meant to hurt you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light bites L's lip during a kiss

Light rolled his thumb over L’s lower lip and smeared red across its curve. He clicked his tongue and frowned. L didn’t change his expression but tracked Light’s movement with dark, interested eyes.

“I can feel a pulse,” Light said, “when I touch your lip here.”

“I would guess that’s from the bite,” L said around Light’s thumb. “Cuts like that tend to pulse when they heal.”

Light took his thumb away to look at the bright red circle left behind by his teeth. Along the edges of his mouth, he still tasted the metal wink of L’s blood.

“I never meant to hurt you.” Light leaned back and his hand dropped to his side. “This really doesn’t happen. I’m actually a very good kisser.”

He was a good kisser. Light had a long resume of successful kisses where girls afterward gave him glowing reviews and asked for more. In every scheme he ran through before this kiss, nothing went wrong. This kiss was statistically predicted to still L’s heart and satisfy the desperate hands in Light’s stomach demanding action. Light had been too eager—hands and mouth turned to spring loaded traps—and snap! His breath jutted in his throat. A first kiss couldn’t be repeated.

“I didn’t expect good.” L dropped his tongue over the jewel dark mark and sucked the blood thoughtfully. “It doesn’t hurt too bad.”

Light opened his mouth to apologize again but was cut off by L’s lips on his. Blood bubbled between them and Light gasped as L bit him. He pulled away and a reddish string of spit kept their mouths connected.

Light smacked his mouth open and closed. L followed after him until they stared each other in the eye.

“I wanted to feel your pulse,” L said, “for fairness’ sake.”

His mouth slid over Light’s again and his tongue prodded the fresh wound. Light opened into the kiss and let it rise. He let his heartbeat touch L’s.


	41. shh, you’re safe now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and Light watch a bad movie

L trailed his finger over Light’s ankle and rubbed his thumb on his Achilles heel. Light flexed under L’s touch and whined. Ah. Ticklish. L moved his fingers to Light’s arch and brushed the soft skin there. In response, Light brought his heel down hard on L’s thigh.

“Don’t tease,” he said. “Pay attention to the movie.”

Loud, exaggerated sobs echoed from the screen as L turned his attention back to it. The soppy cop drama they were watching was nothing special. He couldn’t even remember a single character’s name. A woman in a torn shirt continued to blubber out strong wails and soon was clutched by a handsome leading man. His tossled hair and serious eyes reminded L of the hundreds of bland police detectives he’d worked with.

“Shhh.” The man hushed the sobbing actress with a presumptuous finger to her lips. “You’re safe now.”

“This is awful.” L abandoned tickling and began to massage Light’s feet. “Why are we even watching this?”

“Sayu begged me to watch it,” Light said. “It’s her favorite drama right now.”

“Mm.” L wasn’t surprised with that reason. Light had trouble saying no to Sayu and L, more and more, had trouble saying no to Light.

“Well.” Fingers dancing from foot to ankle, L pushed up Light’s pant leg and caresses the underside of his calf. “Is it imperative we pay attention to the rest of the story? Because I can think of a more interesting way to spend the time.”

“Oh.” Returning the gesture with a grin, Light raised his leg and pressed his foot to L’s chest. He knocked him gently back on the couch armrest and rubbed. “I think we can miss a few scenes.”


	42. I need you to talk to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light uses a ouija board

He picks up the board from a secondhand toy shop and tells the cashier it’s for an imaginary nephew. Light holds the board on his lap on the train ride home after refusing a bag. He doesn’t like the idea of plastic garbage.

His keys clatter onto the front table and echo through the empty apartment. Misa’s on a photo shoot in a district further away. All the rooms and space is Light’s tonight. He wouldn’t have gotten the board otherwise.

Dinner should come first but he’s too eager to put the board to use. Instead, he bypasses the kitchen and locks himself in his office. Light flicks on the ceiling light and rummages for a candle. Once he finds a stubby maroon one—a relic from Misa’s aromatherapy phase—he grabs his box of matches. The match rasps across the box as he strikes it and glows in fluttering orange. He lights the candle and is hit by the scent of cinnamon. Too sweet.

After the light is switched off, Light sets himself up in the center of the room with the board in front of him. It’s a simple wooden Ouija board with a few scuff marks. The cashier joked that it was from spirits trying to burn it. He puts the candle to the side just close enough to cast a weak light over the curling letters and symbols. The planchette sits over the letter K until he moves it to G.

Light inhales until his breath loops through his lungs and touches two fingers from either hand onto the planchette. For a moment, he thinks to close his eyes but doesn’t. He wants to see.

“L,” he says. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing moves. Light clenches his jaw.

“Please.” The words tumbles from him. “I need you to talk to me.”

He waits. He watches. Then planchette pulls down. _No._


	43. dirty talking (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light sits in a yellow chair while L talks dirty to him.

The chair didn’t fit in with the rest of the hotel room. It was a yellow chiclet of molded plastic and fine, silky vinyl that didn’t squeak when moved. While the rest of the room was full of elegant reds and creams, the unflinching modernity of the chair stood out. Light frowned. He leaned back against the room’s vanity and braced his hands on the counter.

“Why didn’t you pick one from the room?” He asked L, who was seated in a lush armchair opposite the yellow chair. “This one’s from the lobby and you can tell.”

“We agreed the challenge would be difficult, right?” L waited for Light to nod before continuing. “I believe that for the challenge to work well, you should sit in an uncomfortable chair. So, have a seat.”

Light sighed and pushed off the vanity toward the chair. Like a cat, he sat down in stages of discomfort—each one more dramatic than the last—until he rested with one leg crossed over the other. He folded his arms across his chest but refused to look at L. Not yet. He wanted to keep that eye contact sacred until the start of the challenge.

Earlier in the week, during a more intimate tea time, Light confessed to L how much he enjoyed when he spoke English. That was the truth. L’s English had a bourgeois laziness to it that Light, an unrepentant upper middle class worker, devoured while eavesdropping on private calls. His confession was met with mild teasing and then L wondering aloud whether it would be possible to get Light off from his words alone.

Back in the hotel room, back in the difficult yellow chair, Light licked his lips and chanced a look at L. His gaze incurred a small grin from L which Light returned. The air was tight with excitement.

“Alright,” L said. “Place your hands on the armrests palm down.”

Light’s arms unbent and he set them flat to the armrests. His hands remained loose and hung over the curved plastic end. He flexed them and inhaled. This wasn’t a challenge of winning or losing. They weren’t playing for any bets. All he and L were doing was seeing whether or not something was possible. Still, as he straightened his back and adjusted his seat, Light couldn’t help a spring of competitiveness in his motions. It was the same competitiveness he saw in L as he settled in his familiar crouch.

“If I ask you a question, I want you to answer,” L said. “But other than that, don’t speak. Just listen. Are you ready?”

A dip of the head and Light allowed himself to stare directly at L. The chair he sat in was more ornate than Light’s and made of white, carved wood. Deep red cushions—the same material as the hotel curtains—and strong curled design made L look royal despite his hunch. Perhaps the hunch even heightened the monarchy of his seat as though his status entitled him to slouch. His dark eyes met Light’s and all that showed of his interest was a twitch of the lip.

“You look good.” L spoke in a low tone but his English was always a little measured for Light. Frustration pinch Light’s neck thinking about L going slow for his benefit. “I wouldn’t say beautiful. That’s too effeminate for you, I think. You look striking.”

Light shifted. He let the compliments spill over him and liked how his praises sounded in other languages. Striking? He imagined himself as a strike—a physical blow—that smacked into L and grinned.

“I’m going to tell you all the things I want to do to you,” L said. “In English, since that’s what you like. Isn’t it?”

A moment passed and L cleared his throat.

“Oh.” Light popped out a gasp. “Yeah, I do like that.”

“You like a lot of things, don’t you?” L waved a hand when Light opened his mouth to answer. “That’s rhetorical. I’m building to something.”

He put a finger to his lips and looked up from Light to the ceiling. His attention rolled around while Light remained still with skin cool and unexcited. While the easy lilt of L speaking steadied him, nothing he said was of particular interest.

“You like when I speak English and you like when I tell you what I’m going to do,” L continued. “That’s established. What am I going to do with you, Light? I think first I’d take off your shirt. You’ll look better with it off.”

The ribs of Light’s turtleneck—cream with three primary colored stripes across the chest—drew closer to his skin. Every breath made tapered phantom fingers curl beneath the fabric and tug. He studied how L’s mouth moved when he spoke as a little pit of heat formed in Light’s belly.

Knees popping, L lifted himself from his chair and stepped onto the floor. His bare feet squeezed in carpet.

“Once your shirt is off, I’ll kiss your neck.” L walked around Light’s chair still speaking. “You’re sensitive there. Whenever I touch your neck, you shiver like you’ve never been touched there before. Do you like to be kissed on the neck?”

Light tilted his chin down. His spine curved like a monster emerging from a lake and pulsed as he swallowed. L’s breath dropped to his ear and the hot air fed Light’s arousal. The bumps on his skin seemed to stretch toward where L stood with an urgent need to be touched.

“Yes,” he said. “I like to be kissed on the neck. By you.”

In his long shuffle, L came back to face Light. They looked at each other almost nose to nose—still without touching—and Light grinned.

“I will kiss you everywhere,” L said. “I will put my mouth against that striking skin of yours and taste you. I will unbutton those designer jeans that I bought for you and pull them down. I will finger you open while I kiss that neck, that striking neck, and you will tell me to fuck you. I will hold your legs and kiss all the orders you give me off your lips as I fuck you. Do you like it when I fuck you?”

Heat swarmed in Light’s crotch as he listened and parsed out what he could of L’s words. He spoke faster now and Light wanted badly to move. He wanted to lift his arms and grab L, pull him and steal the kisses he promised.

“Yes.” Light’s voice came out as a growl. “I like it when you fuck me.”

“Say that again.” L stepped close and his breath hit Light’s teeth. “Say it in English.”

Light’s fingers went white knuckle tight on the chair and he inhaled through his nose—a sharp whistling noise.

“Yes.” Light repeated in measured English. “I like it when you fuck me.”

L’s lips burned against his and Light jerked back from the kiss. He whined, arms not moving, but pushed his face against L’s instead. The kiss was wet, slipping between desperate and excited. When L pulled away to breathe, Light closed his eyes.

“That wasn’t the challenge.”

“I don’t care,” L said. “Do you want me to kiss you or not?”

In lieu of speaking, Light lifted his arms, grasped L’s collar and dragged him back to his mouth. He grinned as fingers—no longer phantoms—curled and tugged up his turtleneck so they could skim his belly. Yes. Touch.


	44. punishment/discipline + orgasm denial/control (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L insults Light and, in return, receives a strangely arousing punishment

Light wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. It dampened the hair at his temples to a slick, dark brown and L wanted to smooth it out. Instead, he flexed his fingers to touch his own palms. As he did, the cuffs pulled and clicked.

“I’m upset with you,” Light said. “So don’t look at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?” L shut his eyes. “Should I not look at you at all? Is this better?”

“Ridiculous.” A creak told L that Light sat down, probably in his square blue chair. “You were looking at me like you wanted to touch me. You’re not allowed to do that. I’m punishing you.”

“Are you?” L shook his wrists. “I don’t think I’ve ever been punished. What do you intend to do? Spank me?”

Soft rustling accompanied a low hum of discomfort and the swish of Light uncrossing and re-crossing his legs. His silence lasted a few moments longer than L anticipated but he broke it with a sigh.

“No,” Light said. “That’s not for you.”

“Ah. That’s your preference, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to discuss what my preferences are. Open your eyes. I want us to see each other.”

L opened his eyes and met Light’s gaze. He was right; Light sat in his square blue chair across from L in their living room. His own seat was a hard backed wooden chair from the dining table and his hands were cuffed behind his back. Chain laced through the back slats, L could only lean forward an inch. Of his own volition, his feet were flat to the ground.

Light re-crossed his legs again and his pant hem rose enough to display his fine boned ankle. He rubbed it without taking his eyes from L. Long fingers pushed his thin skin into creases in slow deliberate circles. L swallowed and his attention flicked from Light’s face to his ankle. His feet were hidden by a pair of loafer-esque slippers that he wore without socks. Even in his teasing, Light didn’t smile. He slipped a finger in the back of the slipper and pulled it off before doing the same to his other one. Neat as ever, he placed the slippers side by side at the foot of his chair.

In sedate stages, Light unfolded himself upright. He walked to about seven inches from L with hands tucked into his pants pockets, suit jacket rucked up behind him. His leg raised and bent like a wire until his foot was flat against L’s face. It was cold from their hardwood floor but clean and had Light’s faint, athletic sweat smell.

“Do you know why I’m punishing you?”

Light pressed down on L’s cheek until his teeth bit into it. The pressure prevented L from moving his mouth which was for the best. His guts flipped the longer he was unable to do anything about the foot on his face. He wanted, in the ugly cellar of his heart, to turn and kiss where the sole caved. It was where Light was most ticklish and would have crumpled him to the floor.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” L said. “Another chance to hear your own voice, hm?”

With his toe, Light pushed L’s face until his chin tipped up. L swallowed and felt the tender softness of his exposed neck like a mouse running over his skin.

“Do you know what you called me on the phone?” Light flexed his foot. “When you were talking to those kids at that house of yours?”

“It’s not my house. It’s Quillish’s.” L’s voice slurred under the pressure. “I don’t know what I called you. I can’t remember.”

“You told those children,” Light said, “that I was your  _assistant._ ”

L’s vision cleared as Light slid his foot down from his face to press hard on his chest. The pressure was enough that his bones ached and stressed his breathing. Blinking, he looked to Light’s face and found needles pointed at him. They dragged in Light’s gaze as he stared back at L with his pointed nose flaring above a mouth pink from pinching together. When Light pushed again, the chair creaked backward. Heat, building from L’s first desire to kiss, boiled in his crotch as he hardened.

“I am  _not_ your assistant,” Light said. “I am  _not_ some secretary who gives you files and blows you under the desk. I have solved as many if not more cases than you have, you picky little brat, because I’m willing to do the work. I move the wheels of justice.”

His foot dragged down further until it nestled directly between L’s legs. Thick denim and the ridge of his zipper dug into L’s dick as Light began to rub his foot there in sluggish circles. His balance never wavered and another shot of arousal hit L at the thought of how tight Light must’ve been holding himself. He was weak to Light’s strength—when he showed it—and longed for his hands to be free so he feel the coil of the muscles holding Light steady.

Moans fell from L as Light kept up his rhythm. He rocked his hips into the motion but couldn’t move enough for the friction he wanted. His breath came out in harsh rushes as he squirmed and Light laughed at him. The sound was rancorous but familiar—the noise of his boyfriend’s cruelty.

“You’re probably wondering how this is punishment,” Light said. “I’ll show you.”

A sharp whine whistled out of L before Light slipped his foot away and left him vibrating. His need was a pulsing search light that went ignored as Light dropped back into his chair. Flushed cheeks betrayed his even smile and told L, even in his desperate state, that Light was excited as well. But instead of bowing to that excitement, he clasped his hands together and set them in his lap.

“This has gone on long enough,” L said. “Come here. Bring yourself back to me.”

“No.” Light coughed into his fist and frowned. “You’re going to sit there for the rest of the night. You’re not allowed to come or touch yourself. It’s your punishment.”

“You’re going to keep me captive for the night?” L sniffed. “I’ll go numb. Tomorrow morning you’ll wake up and I’ll be useless, all the feeling gone from my legs. My dick will have snapped off.”

“I managed well enough after fifty days in handcuffs,” Light said. “You can last a night in them with your erection.”

L sucked his teeth. He often forgot his past indiscretions in spotty acts of self-preservation. But, as proven to him time and time again, he couldn’t out run Light. Slumping in his chair, L sighed and rolled his neck to hear the pops. Head tilted to the left, he chanced an apologetic look at Light and surprised himself at how easily the expression came. Genuine remorse for his actions wasn’t quite tailored to him yet but L didn’t chafe at the fit of it.

“I’m sorry I called you my assistant,” he said. “That was poor wording.”

“Those children won’t be led to believe I’m some bumbling second act to you.”

“No.” L watched Light’s hands angrily squeeze and shake in his lap. “I won’t do it again. I swear.”

“No. You won’t.” Light stood from his chair and walked until his feet were an inch from L’s. He bent at the waist and placed his hands on L’s shoulders. Using them as leverage, Light pulled himself until his lips were whisper close to L’s mouth. “I’ll make sure you remember not to.”

As L jerked forward, Light pulled back and laughed again. He patted the side of L’s face and tucked his hands back into his pockets. When he walked away, his bare feet made soft slaps on the floor until he disappeared down the hallway. L groaned and dropped his head back. He shut his eyes. Punishment, as far as first experiences went, didn’t seem to be off to a great start.


	45. lingerie/outfits (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light reveals L's birthday present

L found Light reading in the living room upside down. The time was late afternoon, a storm rattled outside and weak, grey light spilled in through the bay windows. Next to him, Light had on a single lamp that illuminated himself and a half circle of floor. His legs dangled over the back of the love seat, hidden from L where he stood in the hallway, and his torso bent where it hit the cushion.

Soft orange light cast over the gentle folds of Light’s sweater—a blue fair isle that L remembered as a gift from Watari—and caused his book’s shadow to darken his face. L announced himself to the room with a sharp cough. Rather than sit up, Light bent his head back to see. He dropped the book flat to his chest and grinned.

“Hello,” he said. “How was your birthday nap?”

“I didn’t take one.” L shuffled into the living room and sat in the armchair beside the love seat. He plucked at the frayed red fabric with his fingernails. “I’m in a mood and can’t sleep because of it.”

Light scoffed and put his book back up. The loss of his attention stung but L put up a valiant effort not to pout. He expected the next bit of his life to be filled by quiet disappointment radiating just to the left of him but Light continued to talk. His eyes, however, never strayed from the page.

“You don’t have any reason to be in a mood,” he said. “You’ve been toying with that jewel heist in Canada all week so don’t act like your investigations are boring you. And Quillsh sent that fancy cake over to us this morning so you’ve had good things to eat. If you’re in a mood, it’s unfounded.”

“It’s my birthday,” L said. “Let me sulk a little. You can count it as part of your gift to me.”

“Well, you’re going to be disappointed.” Light flipped to the next page. “I’ve already gotten you two gifts and babying you isn’t one of them.”

L peeked at the cover of Light’s book but couldn’t get a good look. Instead his view was of the long fingers that obscured the front illustration and their clean, trimmed nails. He glanced at his own fingers—a little worn and pink from all the fabric picking—and sighed.

“Two gifts?” L wiggled his toes on the seat cushion and waited for Light to respond. When he didn’t, L sighed again, louder this time. “I’m spoiled, aren’t I?”

Instead of an answer, Light shut his book and set down next to him. With the cover visible, L recognized it as a Hercule Poirot novel—one of his own and an older copy as well.

“Any other day I’d say yes, you’re spoiled,” Light said. “But today, you’re just lucky. Do you want your first present?”

He stretched his legs up, toes pointed to the ceiling, and arched until his back popped. The tight line of his body was cat-like and particular. L’s unpleasant emotional state paused in its suffocation to register what Light said. Still petulantly clinging to his disgruntlement, L mumbled an affirmative.

Light rolled and sat up with his cheeks pink from exertion. He sat still for a moment and his features knotted in concentration. A deep boom of thunder flashed resolve over his expression and he stood. His hands hovered at his waist, unsure of their place, before Light tucked them behind his back. He then took two steps so his hips were mere inches from L’s face.

“Do you want to unwrap your present?” Light spoke in a soft, low voice. “Or do you want me to do it?”

“Let me,” L said. “Keep your hands behind your back.”

L popped open the button of Light’s trousers and tugged them down. His attention, at first, focused on the faint trail of hair at the base of Light’s stomach but it turned as L’s thumbs brushed against unfamiliar lace. With every pull, he revealed another new line on Light’s legs that didn’t fully connect until L let his trousers pool at his ankles. Light stepped out of them and kicked the crumpled clothes to the side. He didn’t move his hands.

Encasing Light’s legs were deep red stockings just sheer enough to show his muscles in their small steadying flexes. Neat suspenders snapped to the lace stocking tops and pulled them tight over his thighs. His underwear was the same spilled wine color as the stockings with a plain front. L studied all the new shades of Light that showed as he stood in the orange lamp glow. He examined the sharp outline the stockings gave Light and how his feet slipped a little in them.

“Will you turn around for me?” L asked. “I want to see the back.”

He inhaled through his nose as Light turned on his left foot. His arms were folded across the small of his back and his hands hung loose. Fingers draped like icicles across the low waistband of his underwear. The back was opaque red except for an exposed loop that fell just low enough to show the split of Light’s ass. Two other suspenders made strict lines that bit only just into Light’s flesh and yanked the back of the stockings up like arrows pointing at his bottom.

“You like them.” Light looked over his shoulder. “Do you want to touch your present?”

Without speaking, L stretched out his arms and clutched as Light fell into them. His hands wrapped around Light’s wrists and held them fast. He dropped from his crouch so his feet were flat to the ground. Beneath his grip, Light was warm and twisted himself around. L didn’t let go.

“Not my present,” he said. “I just want to touch you.”

“Can I move my hands?” Light placed a knee up on the chair and lifted himself up to fully straddle L’s lap. “Or is this going to be difficult?”

“Ah.” L released Light’s wrists. “No. You can move them.”

The moment they were released, Light’s hands flew into L’s hair and dragged him into a kiss. His mouth was bright hot and tasted like black tea. L shut his eyes and leaned into the kiss, licking over the hard line of Light’s teeth. Like a smooth ribbon pulled over a gift, L’s hands ran from Light’s back to his thighs. He slipped a finger under a suspender, pulled up and snapped it back. A quick yelp followed and he swallowed it as he prepared to do the same to the next suspender.

Light groaned as the tight band smacked again on his skin and left a dull ache soothed by L’s thumb rubbing over it. He rolled himself against L in hard waves that stuttered the more hands roamed over him. Gone from his thighs, L’s finger tucked themselves beneath Light’s underwear and stroked his ass. They spread out and clawed into his flesh to yank him further up so his chest pressed against L’s.

“You’ve been wearing this all day under your pants?” L’s mouth smacked around his words as he spoke between kisses. “Wasn’t it uncomfortable?”

“A little.” Light ground down on L’s lap and moaned. “Ah. But I knew you’d like it. I knew it’d be a good present.”

“How would you know that I’d like this?” L pulled away and tried to school his flushed expression despite his hips bucking into Light’s rhythm. His question was met with no response but quiet whines of pleasure so he repeated himself. On second recitation, Light rolled his eyes and dropped his hands to L’s shoulders.

“I looked at your internet search history,” he said. “You just really like lingerie, I guess. Kind of boring, as far as sexual interests go.”

“That’s impossible,” L said. “I use incognito mode when I look up pornography.”

The pitying look on Light’s face nearly killed L’s arousal but, fortunately, his excitement was too strong. Still, the expression left a distinct sting on his ego.

“Don’t worry,” Light said. “I made sure to encrypt all your data. I’m the only one seeing all your weird stuff.”

L frowned and pinched Light’s ass. While the shout of surprise made him feel a little better, his thoughts churned out something that lightened the sting further.

“Would it be presumptuous to wonder if your  _research_ influenced my other present?”

Light tilted his head to the side and laughed. His laughter toppled over into an emphatic head shake as he squeezed L’s shoulders.

“Your other present,” he said, “is a new leather laptop bag. Since your other one is falling apart.”

For a moment, L was tempted to sniff and allow his previous mood to sweep over him again. But Light was still hot beneath his palms and every time he moved, the stockings squeezed Light’s thighs. Desire left no room for sulking so instead of a reply, he tripped his fingers to where the suspenders held Light’s stockings. He toyed with the clasp and relished the gasp that followed him as he snapped it open. Thumb pressed to the loose stocking top, L began to undo the other clasp. His present, of course, still had some unwrapping to go.


	46. friends with benefits (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and Light have a friends with benefits relationship that becomes threatened by Light's new boyfriend, Mikami.

“He’s got a good job,” Light said. “Makes good money. My family likes him.”

“Interesting.” L dropped back on the bed with a soft grunt. His hands collected in his lap and his large eyes, bulging more than usual, scanned over where Light sat on a hotel chair. Every few seconds his tongue darted out and slicked over his dry lips. Winter dried L out despite the chap stick and lotion Light left for him in none too subtle bids on his self-care. At the very least his nails remained well kept and shone as fine, clipped ovals in the hotel room’s warm gold light.

L liked to choose rooms with good lighting when they met. He remarked once that the rooms all looked like the first one—the first location for the Kira taskforce—and, in that remark, Light sensed unwanted nostalgia. Light certainly didn’t want any memory of his previous criminal accusations even as he went to bed with the man who made them. Was that contradictory of him? With a hard sniff, he felt a cold coming on. Winter seemed to have met Light too.

“I’m telling you about him,” Light said, “because I think Mikami is a serious prospect for me. A real boyfriend.”

“Fascinating.” L lifted his white sweater off. A small curled scar appeared on his belly that Light didn’t recognize but he didn’t ask after it. Probably from one of those con-men L liked to keep around. “I’m glad Light felt the need to share this information with me. However, I’m not sure what place it has in the bedroom.”

“A real boyfriend means I can’t have sex with you anymore.” Light switched his position and crossed his left leg over his right. “We should remain friends since our professions are so closely related. Visiting is fine but sex is out of the question.”

“After tonight, correct?”

Embarrassed heat crawled up the back of Light’s neck. He twisted his shirt hem between two fingers and nodded. Their arrangement was always meant to be temporary. For years, they played a tightrope game where, two hours after he arrived in Japan for some bullshit case, L swept Light away from work and back to his hotel. Light found the lack of romance to be respectful. Two busy men like them didn’t reserve space in the body for syrupy love like in the dramas Sayu watched.

“Would you come over here?” L gestured to the bed. “I want to see you better. When you sit far away, I feel like I’m putting on a show.”

“Will you put on a show for me?” Light didn’t look at L’s face. He studied, instead, the mysterious scar and its orange red rise like a sea serpent peeking out of still waters. “For the last time?”

A pause followed his question and L stood from the bed. His jeans hung low enough to reveal billowing boxers that clutched his hips. He thumbed the top button—a flat brass one with L stamped on—and undid the fastenings. Movements without ceremony, L rid himself of his jeans and stood only in his boxers. Light snorted and his laugh gained another snort when L gave him a confused look.

“Not much of a show,” he said.

“I’m not naked yet,” L responded. “So impatient. How will Mikami feel about his boyfriend being an impatient brat?”

“He doesn’t care.” A ping of frustration struck Light at the mention of Mikami but he took care not to let it leaden his voice. “He doesn’t make me wait anyway. Not like someone else who makes me wait years before he comes back.”

L tugged his boxers down with hints of his dark curled crotch hair peeping out. His hands stopped right as his hip bone came into view. Languidly, L canted the waistband this way and that with his tongue slipping over his lips again. Light’s hands flexed in his own lap. He wanted to touch but he stayed seated.

“Do you miss me when I go?”

“I miss your dick,” Light said. “Show me and I’ll be satisfied for my waiting.”

“You’ll never have it again after tonight.” In angled flashes, L’s dick released from his boxers which, once released, pooled at his feet. He kicked them to the side and his dick sat half-hard between his spread legs as he sat back down. “Come here, Light. Come over here to me.”

Light uncoiled himself from his chair and crossed the short distance to the bed. Under his turtleneck, sweat built up around his collar. He didn’t stop when he reached L and kept moving, guided by hands that gripped him by the hips and settled him into L’s lap. Cold and dry, one hand dipped down the back of his trousers and rested there to roll a thumb against the soft skin. Light cleared his throat, placed his elbows on L’s shoulders and rolled his hips until his clothed crotch rubbed on L’s hardening dick. Both their mouths hung open and brushed each other’s. L nipped Light’s bottom lip and gave him a short kiss.

“There you are.” L spoke into Light’s mouth. “Here again for me.”

The sensation of being held sent a surge of arousal through Light. He opened his mouth wider to invite another kiss—this one harder and wetter—and received his desire. Kissing L was a full body action, something that Light couldn’t help but let himself fall into with every limb and tooth and tongue.

“I’m here,” he whispered back. “So make it count.”

L’s hand dipped lower and grasped the side of Light’s ass hard. A squeak the size of a pearl dropped out of Light as L maneuvered him to his back and crawled over top him. Tangled curls curtained out the light from the room until all Light saw were L’s shadowed features. The long naked line of his body and jut of his erect penis like a pale nightmare above Light in his clean work clothes. A finger pushed the hair from Light’s face and L kissed his forehead. Squirming, Light tried to turn the small kiss into a bigger one again but L pinched him.

“Stay still,” he said. “Be good for me.”

A flurry of hands and kisses covered Light as L went around his body. At corners he lifted fabric to kiss the skin underneath and tease his teeth over it until Light’s breath was heavy. Red stained all the spots L touched. Pleasure clouded Light’s thoughts even as he calculated how long it would take for the marks to fade. By the time his skin returned to normal, L would be gone and in some other country. Ice stiffened Light’s spine to think of L in a different bed teasing someone different—someone who might give L a scar or two back.

“I have to leave soon.” L pressed a kiss to the top button of Light’s trousers. His hands wandered over the tight wool encasing strong thighs and squeezed where softness gave to pressure. “My next case is in Spain and I’m due there tomorrow morning.”

“Why don’t you just go?” Light’s word scraped out of his throat between quiet moans. His heart shook when L popped open his trousers and dragged them to reveal his lack of underwear. Only the neat trim of his pubic hair covered his pussy once L left his waistband bunched around his knees. “You’re done with your current case, I’m sure.”

L raised himself up enough so his face was right above Light’s pussy. As he spoke, his breath puffed across the short hair there and he touched a finger to the growing wetness. Light settled onto his elbows so he could watch L move and his stomach flipped when his clit was caressed.

“I didn’t have a case here.” L held apart Light’s lips with his two thumbs and licked over him. “Hm. I’ll miss your taste.”

“Oh.” Light bucked into the rhythm of L’s licks as he dove back to tease his pussy again. “You. L.”

He shut his eyes and opened his legs wider. With one hand, he grabbed the back of L’s head and guided him further against his crotch. A hard rock in his throat kept Light from saying anything real but moans still escaped with whines to follow. L pulled away to leave quick bites over the tender flesh of Light’s inner thighs before kissing them like a puppy reassuring that he’s only playing.

“You know,” he said. “I almost want to punish you for doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“For leaving.” L pushed his head to Light’s thigh. “Taking yourself away from me just to be with a serious prospect that you don’t love.”

“That’s selfish,” Light said. “I’m not taking myself away. I don’t belong to you. And what do you know whether I love him or not.”

“I’ve always been selfish. I haven’t changed.” L gave Light a sharp look. “Do you love him?”

The hard rock rolled in Light’s throat and pushed his protests back. Instead, a choked sigh came out.

“Are you going to fuck me tonight?” Light turned so his cheek faced L and squeezed the hand in his hair. “Or ask me stupid questions?”

Light rarely saw L smile although he’d seen him happy more than once. Usually, his smiles were small like a single shaving of chocolate and lasted as long as that shaving would on a hot tongue. Between Light’s split thighs, L’s tangled hair sprawled over the little red bites he left there. An ugly grin wormed over his lips—all pink and slick from previous oral activities—and he grasped Light by the hips. In a rough push, he turned him over so Light’s face was buried in the pillow. A warm mouth trailed a kiss on the thin fabric of his turtleneck while Light squirmed beneath L’s strong hands.

One hand left his hip and brushed over Light’s bare ass. He groaned as L squeezed him and his damp crotch ground onto the hotel sheets. Stains. He—no, they—were going to leave everything stained.

“I’ll miss you,” L said, “when you’re gone.”

“Please.” Light swallowed the rock. It tumbled without mercy through his belly but couldn’t put out the aroused fire making him push back against L’s hand. “Don’t do that. Just go. Just fuck me.”

“You’re saying curse words.” L laid a gentle spank on Light’s ass. The sting was minor but still spread as he rubbed over where he hit. “You must be upset.”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Light said.

“Okay.” A finger pressed inside Light and a switch clicked that made him rock himself back on it. “I’ll make you feel better.”

Light shut his eyes but the golden glow of the hotel room seeped through the crack of his lids. He heard L’s full breathing, how he took long inhales but short exhales, and felt him stretch another finger in. His pussy was an electric red and sang when L bent to kiss the base of his spine. Legs held together by his trousers still bunched at his knees, Light hummed and tried to push them further apart. His heart was salted meat and remained preserved in a state of pleasure.

 _Do it_ , he wanted to scream.  _Fuck me._

He didn’t speak. He bit his tongue instead and let the pain kill whatever need tortured his thoughts into such shapes. L fingered him wide open and fucked him until Light gasped at the sensation of invasion. His heart was salted meat. It would remain preserved and unspoiled by sex, by the continued push of L’s thick dick and his thumb pressing to Light’s clit. His eyes stayed closed and Light imagined a bruise forming on L’s hips every time he thrust back on L’s dick. Every movement would be a scar for the next person to see and know L wasn’t only theirs. Every movement, a brand to rise and bubble the skin into the shape of their sex.

He imagined irritated skin wounded into three words and tried not to speak them out loud.  _I miss you. I miss you. I miss you._


	47. crotchless underwear is a thing (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and Light wear crotchless underwear to have public sex in a pornography theater

Three in the afternoon was a strange time to be alive. While L didn’t keep a very regular clock, he always found himself at a loss for things to do at three p.m. Light suggested they take advantage of their free time in between case work.

“Let’s see a movie.” He laid out on the bed of their Tokyo apartment. The whole length of him filled the bed down to his ankles. L bent in front of the Light’s feet where they hung off the bed. He got onto one knee and began to massage them. Light jumped from his hands—L knew they were too cold and dry from the winter weather—but relaxed into the tender push and pull.

“That’s boring,” L said. “There’s no interesting movies out and, anyway. I want to spend my time  _with_ you. Not sitting next to you or listening to you get upset about unbelievable situations.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest we just go see any movie,” Light said. “I had, hm. I had an idea about what sort of movie we’d see.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Light propped himself up on his elbows. His shirt collar dipped low and showed his soft brown thrush of chest hair. L’s attention flickered between the quick flexes of Light’s toes and his exposed collar bone. “There’s actually two parts to my idea.”

“An idea with multiple parts?” L skated his index over the sole of Light’s foot and arousal prickled in him when he saw the shiver it produced. “Do you produce any other kinds of ideas?”

Light ignored him and sat upright. He reached and took L by the wrist. In gentle, easy tugs he guided him onto the bed and pressed L’s hand between his legs. His smile grew with beautiful teeth—bigger than average but without any discoloration. Through the window, afternoon sun trickled in and cast gold lining across Light’s cheeks while he popped open the copper button of his pants. L caught the message and pulled down the pants zipper before tucking his hand inside. Warm lace filled his palm as he cupped Light’s pussy covered by, he assumed, a neat pair of panties.

Light exhaled in short puffs as L crept a finger beneath him and followed the seam of his lips. His movement stuttered and L let out a high pitched hum.

“There’s a hole,” Light said, “in the crotch.”

“Yes. There is.” L wriggled his finger tip over what felt like two slips of silk until he touched the first scratch of Light’s pubic hair. Neither the fabric nor Light were damp but he hadn’t expected any immediate arousal. “I wasn’t aware crotchless underwear was something you were interested in.”

“I researched a few ways to make public sex more viable.” Light bit his lip as L’s finger dipped between his vaginal lips and brushed his clit. “Crotchless underwear was practical and, well. Seemed fun to me. I got you a pair as well.”

L rubbed his tongue along his top teeth and tapped Light’s clit. He leaned forward and captured a kiss as Light opened his mouth to gasp. Slowly, he moved his hand push down a hip and kissed in long, steady pulls. His mind sauntered around thoughts of Light with his face narrowed by seriousness and study all while researching erotic underwear. Laughter bubbled over into the kiss until L lifted his head from it. A pleasant pink vibration clung to his lips.

“And the second part of your idea?” L grinned as Light pressed both hands to his cheeks and squeezed. His palms made the fat drag on L’s teeth as he rubbed them to redness. “Can I deduce how we’ll use these in a theater?”

“Not just any theater.” Light spoke through a smug and satisfied smile. “Have you ever heard of a pink theater?”

…

The theater was quiet and near empty which wasn’t a surprise. Even the ticket taker looked perplexed when L and Light walked through in unseasonably large coats. Two other people sat in the front row slumped on each other’s shoulders, hats bumped together into a tiny, mundane pyramid. Stretched across the screen were the bright flashes of naked bodies in lurid color. Under L’s coat, Light had shucked off his trousers and pressed L into him through the opening in his underwear. Below the sticky slap of Light bouncing on his lap, L heard the projector reel’s click as the film played.

“Are you enjoying the film?” He attempted a forced conversational tone but couldn’t keep a rough edge from his voice. “The dialogue isn’t very good, is it?”

“I don’t even know what’s going on.” Both of Light’s hands were tight over L’s and they clutched the armrest ends together. “Can you move? I’m doing all the work.”

In one sharp jerk, L thrust into Light and he groaned. The sensation was pleasant suffocation with the hot wrap of Light’s pussy around his dick. His hips didn’t have their usual range of motion within the crumbling theater seat. Every thrust brought to the back of L’s mind the cushion stuffing that oozed out beneath him. Yet that didn’t stop crackling excitement deep in his gut which struck him hard whenever Light tilted back against his chest. L leaned forward and touched his lips to the base of Light’s neck.

“You were right.” He mouthed his words into the sweat dampened skin. “This underwear is better than I thought.”

On screen, a woman moaned and one of the hats rattled. Light froze, his back stiff against L’s chest, and his hands loosened. L slipped from under his grasp and gripped one hand under Light’s thigh. He pushed it up and out until Light was spread open. The coat slid and fell away so the tight length of his leg was exposed. A shiver fluttered Light’s skin enough that L felt it prickle on his palm.

“What are you doing?” Light spoke in quick jabs undercut by breathless gasps as L didn’t stop his motion. “What if those two wake up? You want them to see us having sex?”

L’s other hand came to where his dick connected them just at the opening of the crotchless underwear. Without lingering, he ran his fingers up in a gentle drag until they could slip beneath the waistband.  There he rested them right against the slope of Light’s abdomen with his middle finger inched a little further down. Tremors echoed through the flesh he touched and L’s own gut was vociferous. All the strings inside him were knotted from trying to stay steady.

“Well. What if they wake up?” L rubbed in slow circles as his hand journeyed further down. “They probably won’t even notice. They’ll be too busy watching the film to figure out some of the sounds aren’t coming from the stereo.”

Light huffed but relaxed into his previous rhythm. L dipped his hand lower and caressed his clit between two fingers. The moment he did, Light jerked into his touch and moaned.

“Oh fuck.” His voice was low and pulled out like pocket softened taffy. Hand slapped to his mouth, Light started to slow but as he did, L squeezed his thigh and spoke into the shell of his ear. 

“A curse word? Listen to how loud you are.” A grin blossomed over L’s face as he spoke. He continued to stroke Light in languid stretches. “You’ll wake them up by yourself. Won’t be able to mistake your voice for the film. They’ll look back here and see us.”

“L,” Light gasped. “Please.”

“What will they see?” L kissed Light’s neck and thrust in sharply. “You spread open and taking my dick deep inside. Moaning because you feel so good you can’t keep down the noise. Do you know what you’ll look like to them? What you  _do_ look like?”

L thumbed over Light’s clit and another cry shuttered out from him. His pussy tightened and L took a deep inhale. His hand started to slip on Light’s thigh from the sweat collecting on it and his movements were arrhythmic. In the focus he gave to holding onto Light, L forgot he’d asked a question until Light whispered his answer.

“A slut.” Heat dropped through his voice. “I look like a slut.”

“Mm.” L sped up his strokes and Light rocked into them. “An exposed and tender slut is what you look like. I can’t get enough of you like this—bouncing on my lap and slick on my fingers. It’s so hard not to just let go and fuck you breathless.”

His fingers stuttered as the warm weight of Light’s hand covered L’s. He pressed down and groaned, head bent back until it dropped onto L’s shoulder. Light turned, his lips dragging on L’s cheek, and talked through a short kiss.

“Then do it.” Light guided L’s hand from his pussy and wrapped it around his other thigh. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“You’re good.” L dug in his fingers and hefted Light’s leg up. With both arms preoccupied, his hips generated most of the strength in his thrusts while Light continued to drop wails from his mouth like fuel dribbled onto the fast burning fire centralized in L’s lower half.

“I’m good?” Light mumbled with his mouth still pressed to L’s face. His lips were moist when they moved. “Am I a good slut?”

“So good. Such a good slut for me.” L’s voice rattled—all full of unexpected emotion tumbling throughout—and he shook as his orgasm approached. He dropped Light’s right leg and pressed his hand back into his underwear to thumb his clit hard. Light trembled along with his own moans. “I love you. I’m ruined by you. I love you.”

A startlingly quiet keen left Light as he came and his pussy pulsed around L. Nails biting into his thigh, L thrust into Light several more times with his eyes squeezed shut. He saw dancing prisms in the closed dark and smelled the salt of Light’s sweat curled together with his own. L groaned and came in stuttered jolts until he eased into a slump. Overhead, the projector clicked in intervals of five.

He waited for Light to slip off him and root around for his pants. Instead, he received another wet kiss on the cheek which trailed into his ear. The tip of Light’s tongue traced the ridges of it and, in revenge, L brushed his clit. A sharp overstimulated shiver ran through Light and he bit L’s ear lobe in retaliation.

“I’ve ruined you.” Light spoke in statements. “I love you so much. I’m tired.”

“Me too.” L shifted and set his chin on Light’s shoulder. “You should get up. It’ll start to hurt the longer I’m inside you.”

Light remained still and his hand came up to cover L’s eyes. His fingers—long and curved—let through just hints of the vivid screen colors.

“In a minute.” His voice was an island and L swam to it. “In a minute. I want to see how the movie ends.”


	48. mirror sex (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and Light have sex in front of a mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is a fic i wrote bc of a donation request. its not as polished as it could be, but i spent more time on it than i should hv. yeah. hope y'all like it.
> 
> also there's almost more in this abt miniature houses than there is abt the mirror. whoops!

Light woke at the kitchen table with a sharp gasp. His hand struck out and hit a bottle of paint. A bit of the paint remained on Light’s fingertips and stained them blue. He fell asleep during his miniature work again.

In the back of his throat, a nightmare slunk away into post-nap gumminess. Light tapped his tongue to the roof of his mouth and frowned. He couldn’t place what the nightmare was about but it clutched in his belly too strongly to be unfamiliar. Around him the kitchen remained dark besides the lamp above the table which cast an orange glow over his work. His current project was a model of his childhood home that opened similar to a doll house his sister once had. Stray sheets of balsa wood littered the table along with pots of acrylic paint all smelling heavily of craftsmanship. A single model figure—the only one he’d started—sat half painted next to rubber glue. Light picked it up and his mouth rippled into a deeper frown. He couldn’t remember who the figure was supposed to be.

He considered the figure a moment longer before a strange little tune reached his ears. The song was in English although he didn’t know the title and carried the distinct rumble of L’s voice. Flicking his wrist, Light checked his watch and found he’d slept longer than he expected. The late hour frustrated him since he didn’t like being caught off guard. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Light pushed his jeweler’s glasses up to the top of his head and sighed. He placed the figure on a balsa wood scrap and left the table to follow L’s voice.

Once he peered down the hallway, it was clear to Light that L was in their bedroom. He walked between the walls, past their shared office and his various watercolor landscapes. For a week, Light picked up painting and L framed each piece he created except the ones Light didn’t like. The rejects he secreted away in an old Mega Man tin, burned after L went on an out of state case and buried the ashes in the garden. Pride made it hard for Light to enjoy the process of creation. He preferred, now, the precise ease of miniature model work. Architecture was a more natural beast for him to tame.

The bedroom was empty when Light came to it but from the ensuite bathroom spilled both light and steam. L sang over a spitting shower with his words tromping along like men through snow—each footstep of English cut out of the soft white noise. Light stepped in and leaned against the entryway to the bathroom. L's outline danced behind the plastic shower curtain without grace or rhythm. He moved, it seemed, just to move and be alive.

Slowly, the song dwindled as L shut off the shower and pulled back the curtain. His eyes flicked from the faucet knobs to where Light stood next to the sink counter, arms folded over his chest. Water dripped off L’s pointed chin and down his thin chest where it pooled in his belly button. The hair above his crotch was damp and flattened into a dark arrow-like pattern directed downward. Hesitation held Light’s gaze on L’s face but he let it fall. Not looking at bodies was a habit he broke with L after a few years living together.

“What song was that?”

“Oh.” L took an exaggerated step out of the shower. “Hm. You wouldn’t know it.”

“I might.” Light huffed at the wet slap of L’s feet after he failed to dry them on the bath rug. “You always assume I don’t know your American songs but I’m not stupid. I’ve heard music.”

“Have you?” On a towel rack hung two white towels both monogramed with a gold L in the corner. L snatched the left one and wrapped around his waist before rolling his attention back to Light. He spoke in a flat tone despite the mischievous spark in his eyes. “I didn’t realize. My mistake.”

“So funny.” Light shook his head. A tug in his chest made him lean forward to meet L as he neared. Their kiss was short and L’s lips were dry. Yet, when Light pulled away, he wanted to dive back in for another one.

“You smell like glue,” L said. “How is the house coming along?”

“Good. I’ve finished the basic structure.” Light clenched his hands where they were still tight in his armpits. “Are you going to put on some clothes at any point?”

“Do you want me to? Are you ashamed of my naked body?”

“Shut up.” Heat rounded out Light’s cheeks. “I’m not ashamed. You’re just standing around in a towel. Aren’t you cold?”

L shook his head and water sputtered from the uneven spikes of his hair. They soaked Light’s sweater and he jumped back, arms unfolded in surprise. With his chest exposed, L bent in and kissed Light’s hot cheek. His lips dragged but didn’t linger. After a moment, he turned and examined himself in the mirror. Dark eyes darted over the surface and Light followed them to his own reflection. Yet he didn’t analyze his appearance as his attention was on L’s hand hovering over his head.

“You left your glasses on.” L whispered and touched the jeweler’s glasses bridge. “Forgetful today? Light doesn’t usually just leave these on.”

“Oh.” With his stained fingers, Light reached and pulled off the glasses. He turned them over in his hand to see the bathroom tile magnified within the little circular lens. Tilting them, Light moved the lens to focus on L’s toes. Small coarse hair sprouted over them and waved as L wiggled his feet. “Do they bother you?”

Light looked to L’s face. He trailed over the wet but sharpened features—his thinning mouth, his elegant nose and slightly drooped eyelids—only to find that L’s attention caught on the glasses. A chuckle smoothed out of him and L let go of his sweater. His hands leapt to his towel and he removed it, slow at first and then quick to throw it to the side. Light dropped his gaze to L’s dick, half hard sprouting from thick dark curls. As if attached to a fish hook, Light’s lower lip became heavy and pulled down to reveal his teeth to the cool air.

“I don’t know how I feel about glasses that make Light better at seeing,” L said. “You’re already so good at it.”

“They’re for art.” Light held his glasses up to his face. Through the magnifying lens, L appeared alien and bright. “For my houses. For all the details I need to see clearly.”

L went silent in his nudity. His arm braced against the marble countertop to hold him at an angle just askew enough to appear casual. Light put the glasses down next to the toothbrush holder, crossed his arms again and then uncrossed them. His bottom lip shook and he ran his tongue along the inside of it. L watched him with frank interest in his eyes

“Can I undress you?” L asked the question to Light’s mouth. “Please?”

“Polite of you to ask.” Light skimmed his trouser button with one blue tipped finger. “I’ll undress myself, thanks.”

He popped open the button and slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband. Skin rubbed against tight skin as he dragged his pants down along with his briefs. Inch by inch, the small brown thicket covering his crotch revealed itself. Light kicked his pants away once they’d hit his ankles and took a pretzel pose to pull off his socks. L caught his elbow when Light faltered but let go once he placed both feet, naked, on the ground. Beneath his soft soles, the tile was cool and smooth.

Light crossed his arms and grabbed his sweater’s hem. He pulled the fabric up as a curtain and opened his chest to viewing. L didn’t move to touch him but hummed in a quiet patter not unlike his earlier singing. The song wasn’t quite audible but there had to be a certain melody he was going for. Light strained to hear the link between hums while his head was encased in navy cashmere. His head slipped through the collar and pushed his hair across his eyes in a static softened fray. Something popped and L brushed the hair away with one finger, leaning forward on his toes. Light’s breath stuck in his throat.

“Ah,” L said. “There they are. Your good eyes.”

Light bent his head to the side and welcomed another kiss. His hips grew warm as L took hold of them and his eyes shut tight. Sharp tongued, he licked into L’s mouth and wrapped one arm behind his neck to sink a hand into his tangled hair. A groan hiccupped from Light at the twist of L’s hand and he turned in its grasp until the countertop bit into his stomach. L slid a hand between Light’s legs and cupped him in a gentle, rhythmic rub with one finger teasing his vaginal lips. His thumb swiped the jut of his clit and Light’s thigh jumped as he tried not to buck into the movement.

“More.” Light didn’t open his eyes and felt drool at the corner of his mouth. “Touch me more.”

“Then let me in.” L dropped his hand from Light’s hip to his thigh and pushed without strength. “Spread wider for me. I know you can.”

Light opened his eyes. His posture suffered from the persistent man at his back with L’s still damp chest pressed to him. For a moment, Light’s arousal halted and he saw not the hand on his genitals nor felt urging fingers. He looked at himself—precise triangle nose, pink curved lips and lean chest ridged by top surgery scars—and his mouth dried. Light blinked and his own features blurred. He blinked again and met L’s gaze. Dark eyes bore into his and Light imagined reaching one hand back to gouge into the white gelatinous meat there. To tunnel his finger into L’s skull and yank out all his thoughts and ideas about Light soaked in through his eyes. He imagined taking all that into his palm and feasting on it, smearing eyeball and dreams alike across his tongue.

Instead, he lifted his left leg, stretched it until his knee touched the wall and set it down. With his leg extended, his back arched and curved out his ass enough to rub directly on L. Exposure made Light tighten and breathe in heavy pulls.  When L touched him between his lips, Light was wet and welcomed a finger inside himself. He puffed out a few groans when L added another finger with his thumb still caressing Light’s clit. A deep heat flushed through Light’s face that burned down his neck and over his chest. Damp clicks followed every thrust of L’s fingers and Light rocked into the sound, hands stretching flat against his reflection’s metallic palms. His fingers curled with each motion pushing harder and L’s other hand squeezing his left bottom cheek.

L slid his fingers out and they shone in the harsh yellow bathroom light. He wiped them on Light’s inner thigh, then left his hand there to rub circles on the sensitive skin. With the weight of a long distance runner he tipped his forehead to Light’s back.

“Are the condoms still in this one?” L tapped the drawer on Light’s right and, once Light nodded, he pulled it open. “Okay. Almost forgot we kept them there.”

“It’s weird what we forget.” Light’s voice untwisted into a dream-like fray while his attention turned from L struggling with the condom wrapper. He spoke to himself looking back from the sharp mirror dimension. “I keep forgetting things. I can’t even remember what I dreamed about earlier.”

“You were dreaming?” L touched the crease between Light’s crotch and his thigh. Absently, Light moved to accommodate him and L began to push inside. The stretch burned just enough to tether Light in his body. And he enjoyed being filled, inch by inch, until L was buried to the hilt.

“Yes.” Rocking back, Light let out a soft gasp as L started to thrust in an easy rhythm. “On the house. I fell asleep while I worked on the house and I dreamed but I woke up without remembering what I dreamed.”

“Tell me about the house.” L’s voice vibrated through Light with his lips pressed to his back. “Maybe if you tell me, you’ll remember.”

“It’s my parent’s house. Ah!” Light moaned as L stroked his clit along with his thrusts. “Oh. I’m trying to make our old house look like it did before I went to college.”

“Why?”

“Because.” His words strained through his teeth and Light tried to focus on them rather than the wonderful sting of pleasure every time L fucked into him. “Because everything was perfect. I’m going to make the living room with my mom’s favorite chair. My dad’s medals on the mantel. Ah, there, again, please. L. Please.”

“Tell me more.” L thumbed his clit harder. “Tell me what you were doing before you fell asleep.”

“I was making one of the figures,” Light said. “But I don’t know who. I didn’t finish. It was just tall.”

“Was it you?” L asked. “Was it your father?”

“Can you just fuck me?” Threads broke in Light’s voice and he hated how lost he sounded. He shut his eyes and his hand slipped on the mirror, too slick from sweat. It didn’t drop far before L caught it and pressed his own on top. The heel of his hand kneaded the back of Light’s as though trying to bend the small bones inside. He didn’t speak but obediently rocked his hips faster. Light ground his clit against the friction of L’s thumb but the sensation was disjointed and painful. Another few minutes passed before L huffed out his orgasm and Light’s came after in jittery, unsatisfying pulses.

“Are you—,” L paused before removing himself from Light. He stepped back and cool air blanketed Light. It pulled goosebumps off his skin but he remained in the same position. His eyes stayed closed. A wet snap and crinkle informed him L had taken off the condom but he didn’t expect the gentle grasp of his hand against Light’s thigh.

“Are you okay?” Light peeked one eye open and glanced to where L stood. He eased his leg down and frowned. The slick squish between his thighs no longer felt hot or exciting. It was uncomfortable and embarrassing. Still bent over the counter, Light sighed and knocked his forehead on the mirror.

“I keep having nightmares and dreams I don’t remember,” he said. “And if I can’t remember them, how am I supposed to remember important details? So I thought building the old house would help me restructure my memories.”

“You should build something else,” L said. “An old house won’t help you. Build something new.”

“But what if I keep forgetting?” Light whispered. “What if I build something new and never find those old memories? I can’t keep half-making figures.”

“Then don’t make figures.” L patted Light on the ass. “Make a chair. Make a nice new chair, like a recliner. Or don’t make anything. It's up to you, Light, to make what you want.”

With that, L dropped a kiss to Light’s shoulder and left. Alone, staring at himself, Light put a finger on his closed eyelid and pressed down. He pressed until it stung and kept pressing. Then he let go.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll make something new.”

He stood and tapped his knuckles to the counter top twice. Light stretched and cracked his back while in the bedroom L sang to the walls. The tune was jumbled but not off key and Light hummed along. He wondered if he knew the song: if, maybe, L had sung it before. He left the bathroom to ask with his bare feet slapping on the tile.


	49. leash and collar (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light tries a different method to get L to correctly play piano

The piano sat among their living room as a strange altar. Every day, L left offerings of misguided plinking and Light—his own small sacrifice—fiddled out the Bach piece Watari never finished teaching him. Neither of them were born musicians although Light claimed several violin lessons made him more apt than the three years L spent futzing around synth machines.

Even now his prideful monologues echoed as L sat with fingers ghosting over the white keys. Or he thought the sounds were echoes until a rustle made him look and see Light standing at the kitchen door. Leaned against the frame, he was fatter now than L remembered his teenage frame being. Years gave his bones presence until it was clear he didn’t skip meals while buried in collegiate materials anymore.

Salt smells floated from behind him. A recent visit from his mother—her first time to their smaller condo in England—grew a need inside Light to replicate her recipes. Vibrant green bok-choy, orange carrots and shiny white onions stacked among other vegetables making their fridge a variable rainbow to behold. His brown thermal bunched at his elbows in thick, comfortable folds that revealed forearms slicked from wiping sweat off his head. In his hand not gripped around a wooden spoon, Light held a dewy carrot chunk.

“Here.” He held the carrot out for L to take. “Try. I’m not sure if it’s done yet.”

With two fingers, L pinched the carrot and took a bite. His action was too soon and he yelped at the hot scorch on his tongue.

“Mm.” L licked his lips and considered. “I think it needs more time. It still has too much bite.”

Light nodded while L spoke with attentive eyes. Lately they worked on engagement actions—anything to reassure each other they were listening while the other spoke—and Light’s go-to was an eager nod. He didn’t like to make noises although L knew it pained him not to speak. Finished with his chewing, L handed the chunk of carrot back sans one bite.

Disgust rippled over Light’s features which gave them an attractive ugly edge as he snatched the chunk and ate it himself. As he chewed, his expression melted into thoughtfulness. “Ah. You’re right.” He left the kitchen and pushed L’s shoulder. “Scoot over if you’re just going to stare at the piano all day.”

“Not all day,” L said. “Just right now. I think I might play a little tune before dinner.”

“You don’t know any tunes.”

L raised an eyebrow and plunked two fingers rapidly down on the piano keys. “I know Chopsticks. That’s a tune, isn’t it? Light-kun should be more generous.”

“I can be very generous when the time’s right.” A stiffness infected Light’s tone as he eyed L’s continued nonsense music. “Be serious. What song are you going to play?”

“I’ve been trying to learn a Mozart piece but it’s too hard.” L sighed. “Not worth the effort, really. You don’t have to listen.”

His hands went still on the piano and flattened into a discordant note. While L stared at his own fingers the unhappy humming next to him painted a better picture of Light’s eye rolling than actually looking could. The bench squealed as Light stood and walked off. His feet thumped over the wood floor and L flickered his attention away from his fingers. Limply, the sheet music he hadn’t paid mind to before stared back at him until Light’s jingling return pushed it out of L’s interest again.

Thin black leather coiled around Light’s fist and a collar dangled underneath, attached to the leather strand by a sharp silver clasp. At first, the image of his husband holding a leash and collar was mundane to L. Leashes didn’t nor did collars carry any degree of excitement beyond a deep drive to go on a walk. But the item in question germinated another train of thought within him and he remembered a previous sexual use involving not his own neck, but Light’s. Arousal rolled over his back like molasses poured onto a pancake—slow and creeping—as Light advanced on him.

L studied how lax Light’s grip was and found little reason for concern. “What’s that for?” He waited for a response but didn’t receive one until Light sat next to him, leash now loose and collar balanced between his palms. Hair swiped over his eyes as Light spoke.

“I thought it might be interesting to use it as a sort of teaching device. You wear it while you play the tune and if you play a wrong note, I’ll give it a yank. Maybe you’ll get better.”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“It’s not.” Light’s head shot up and a wildness curled in his eyes. “It’s very sexy.”

“Oh. Hm.” L tapped a finger to his lips and reached for the collar. Light held it higher and his eyes followed L’s hand as he brushed the leather. “Sure. You’re sure your food won’t burn?”

“Yes. It’ll be okay and we don’t have to play that far. Maybe just the first two pages of the piece?”

L nodded and, after a moment, bent forward until his neck was low. A sharp inhale whistled from Light and gentle hands curled over his throat. The leather pressed tight as L swallowed but each brush of Light’s fingers as he buckled it was tender, almost like the minute touch of a lady bug leg. His hands slipped from the nape of L’s neck to his cheeks and tilted his face up. Their gaze met and L saw the strange frenzy that burned in Light’s eyes become more than just background warmth.

He straightened himself into an upright seat, hands hovering over the keys, and fought a grin when Light had to stretch his arms to keep touching L’s cheeks. His hunch secreted away the two inches he had on Light, who slid his grip down onto the leash and nodded for L to start.

At first the notes were stilted but correct. Their awkward tune was born of how little L cared for classical instruments. Even though Light insisted some importance remain on them, L liked making chiptune ditties more. He hit his first wrong note a few lines in and pain, so sharp he almost didn’t register it, sliced across his neck. The yank was firm and made him yelp. It also vibrated through him with sickening erotic joy as L looked at Light, his smile small but present.

“Try again,” Light said.

So L tried again. He would fumble a note and the collar would jolt from a pulled leash. It bit his skin, again and again, until his thoughts left the music completely. All he focused on was the grip of the collar, Light’s dominating mastery of the leash and a benign thrill at the pain. Two pages took them thirty minutes—enough time that the oven buzzer went off and Light had to leave to check his food—and by the end L’s erection ached. The last note rang out as he hit it and the entire room was quiet. Light’s breathing was the only sound to cut through the silence until L turned to speak from a deep feral cellar inside himself.

“Good?”

Light sucked in a breath and let go of the leash. “Very good. Punishment seems to sweeten your playing quite a bit.”

He opened his mouth to say something else—perhaps another backhanded compliment, perhaps something even more loaded—but L kissed him instead. Arms wrapped around Light’s waist and pulled the both of them to the floor. Crashing against wood, L swallowed the pained moan Light made and put his hands beneath the thermal shirt to rub the hot skin. The collar flexed with every breath he took but L couldn’t stop long enough to take it off. His interest in whatever these actions meant fell far below his interest in fucking Light stupid next to the piano.

In the end, Light’s carrots burned and collar remained on for the rest of the night.


	50. dirty letters (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Light is arrested and sent to prison, he starts sending L letters which are sexual in nature.

The first letter arrived in January while they were in Berlin although neither L nor Watari knew how their address was known. Written in the return address was a betrayal of the letter’s author—a certain Japanese murderer rotting in solitary until his execution date was announced—and ensured the cream envelope stayed unopened.

After that first letter came more although never on a sure schedule. L suspected that Light was guessing his whereabouts or, perhaps, begged for a little law enforcement information to tell where he was. Eventually he realized that the only time the letters came was when his detective involvement was in the media.

“We’ll have to start going dark on television usage,” Watari said over morning tea. “No more media briefs.”

“Hm.” L stirred around the lemon in his Earl Grey. He felt foolhardy for trying the citrus—it was awful—but too stubborn not to drink the rest. “That’s a shame. You liked going to the television stations, didn’t you?”

Watari nodded while chewing on a biscuit. “Yes. Lovely people, those news reporters. They always have the best craft service breakfasts.”

A moments thought toward good station breakfasts passed before L shook his head. “Don’t worry about keeping things from the media. We’ll proceed as usual.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” L took a sip of his tea and fought a disgruntled face at the tart taste. “I don’t mind. It’s fun to get mail these days.”

There were twelve letters in total at that point and L stacked them on the hotel desk, one on top of the other. He slipped one from the middle, heedless of their chronological order. With his pinkie worked beneath the flap, L slowly tore open the envelope. The letter came out pinched between his fingers and unfolded on its own. Light’s penmanship was clean and small but without style as though he were just practicing language writing.

L scanned the letter’s first line and his eyes widened.

_Today I thought about my nipples and what your tongue would do to them._

Air fled from his chest and he dropped the letter. He didn’t remember any sort of dirty talk from Light before and hadn’t suspected the boy capable of it. What he remembered was that silver smile cut with arrogance slowly turned rotten as he realized L caught him. Shaking his head, L picked the letter back up and pressed on.

_I assume you’ve never worn a prison uniform although I don’t know. Maybe you had to for one of your cases and so you also know how rough they are. When it gets cold in my cell, my nipples get hard as little cherry pits—those I know you are aware of. I turn on my stomach to rub my chest on that brutal fabric covering them and pleasure myself imagining your tongue instead._

_I’ve never felt someone lick me before. Is it soft and wet? Or rough like this ugly jumpsuit?_

L shrugged. He hadn’t been with a lover in some time but the tongue sensation varied. Then he huffed, remembering that his shrug couldn’t be seen by someone in a Japanese prison.

_I turned nineteen a month ago. Did you know that? You never return my letters so I assume you aren’t reading them. That’s fine because they aren’t really for you. These are my thoughts and my fantasies. In fact, I don’t want you to think that when I imagine you fucking me that I do it with love._

_I don’t love you. I hate you more than I ever hated anyone._

_Right now, while I’m writing, my cunt is wet from the thought of your mouth on it. I want you to lick me there until I sob, tears down my face. Your dark hair would be soft between my naked thighs. Did you know, now that I’m in prison, I only see myself naked in the shower? I have no control over when I see my own skin. If I had you here, tongue on my small dick and fingers buried in me, you would taste how badly I want you dead and I’d squeeze your delicate skull until it burst._

The image made L’s temples throb. He smoothed a finger over the word “cunt” and imagined Light naked. Throughout their entire cohabitation, he never saw him unclothed although he knew Light was a transgender man. His mind flitted back to the first paragraph describing the hard, cool cherry pit nipples and their phantom ripple over his tongue.

A shock of arousal popped in his crotch and, as he had pressed on in adding that cursed lemon to his tea, L kept reading.

_Soon, I’m going to die because of you. If I get a last request, I’ll ask them to bring you to me so I can suck your cock. You’ll like that since I’ll probably have to stay handcuffed. You like me restrained, don’t you? A little powerless in the face of the great L and wanting whatever he gives me. Let me tell you how it looks in my fantasies: me knelt on the little grey room where I see visitors. It’s the same room where my mom told me she believes I’m innocent._

_My wrists are locked behind my back and you come in, loose gait like before. I remember you taller than you are, I think, and your movements more graceful. But your eyes, I bet, are the same in reality as in my memories. Big and searching especially once you take hold of my hair to pull me against your jeans._

_I don’t beg to perform fellatio but my kisses to your zipper are desperate enough. You take out your cock and, well, I only have my imagination. Are you long? Thick? I saw a flash once, when you showered, so I know you’re hairy down there. In my fantasy, you fuck my mouth easily despite your cock being my first and I swallow your cum. I’m wet enough that my uniform gets damp and you tease me for being so horny. Of course, I can’t respond with my mouth full._

_I don’t beg you to fuck me but, in my fantasy, you always do. Sometimes, I fantasize you brush away the tears I get when the stretch stings too much or when I gag. But, other times, I imagine you push harder and squeeze another cry from me. I can’t decide who you are. Maybe I’ll decide before I die._

The final paragraph was perfunctory and more an update of Light’s legal situation than sexual fantasy. He ended the letter with an X and then his signature. The penmanship had an odd romantic tilt that L knew he must’ve imagined. Setting the letter down, he took a deep breath and looked to the unopened stack of letters.

He reached for another and adjusted his half hard erection. With eleven still to go, he needed to pace himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! thanks for reading :) comment if you can and let me know what you liked or what you'd have Light write in a sexy letter.


	51. dirty letters 2 (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and Light exchange erotic letters following Light's imprisonment as Kira

**_Dear Light,_ **

_I’ve enclosed a picture of my penis with this letter. You are correct. I’m quite hairy. Are you?_

_After so many months in that little cell, you probably haven’t been given any kit to groom yourself down there. Dispute my claim in later correspondence if you wish, but I imagine you’ve grown quite a bush over that cunt of yours. I want to press my face into that thicket and smell you while you’re wet. I’ll lick you clean until those long legs shake beside my ears._

_My response has been thus far delayed because of my disinterest in you. A murderer’s plight is nothing to me. But your letters have been such an exciting twist on the prideful screaming I expected. Once I finished all twelve, I touched myself to the thought of you stripped of your jumpsuit and naked, bouncing on my cock. My tongue trembled at visions of your nipples licked until hard as the cherry pits you described. That I’d lick your skin first and taste what no one else has? Light, you know me so well to include such a detail. Your perversions ruined my second favorite jeans and, I expect, will ruin more pairs as they haunt me during every hour._

_I wonder whether your father knows his son begs to be fucked over physical mail. His disappointment is probably half what it was to find you were a loathsome killer. You send these letters because you need a different type of daddy, don’t you? Is that who I’ll be to you—another authority figure to impress and disappoint?_

_My cock hardens when I imagine you in your despairing prison without me there to relieve your soaked cunt. I think of what you do instead—hump your bed as though it can touch back, press fingers to the damp fabric for friction, or rub your little dick in the shower when the guards look away. Countless situations occur to me. I am, after all, paid to be creative in my methods._

_How long does it take you to come? Can you wait until my next letter? Tell me a fantasy of yours, one you haven’t said to anyone, and your orgasm will be allowed. I promise to be prompt as long as you promise to be good._

**_Yours, L_ **

**_L—_ **

_You’re cruel. You’re the cruelest man I’ve ever known. I hate your writing as much as I have been brought to the pleasurable brink by it. Again and again, I neared climax from suggestions in your letter but lucky you. I’ve been good._

_Today I considered your demand for a sexual fantasy of mine despite all that I’ve already written you. You’re a greedy man and somehow it makes me want you to devour me. I want your fingers knuckle deep inside me while I grind on them. One hand holds my thigh up and the other thumbs my cock until I’m tight around those long fingers. Do you want me naked? Underneath this jumpsuit I’m not allowed anything but some horrendous underwear I’d happily discard. If you stripped me of it, I’d have nothing to stop you from touching me._

_My nipples harden as I write and my dick is swollen from being rubbed through my clothes. I couldn’t help getting off to your letter—humping my bed as your imagination suggested—and the image of your cock. Would you be sad to know it’s not as long as I thought? That’s not terrible. I doubt a cunt as untouched as mine could take a bigger dick without some practice and there’s not much to use here beyond my own fingers. Unfortunately, my showers are never long enough for me to masturbate during them. Not that I can now with your restrictions reaching over the ocean to keep me from coming._

_My dad visits me more often than you’ve probably thought about me. He loves me despite this terrible card I’ve been dealt and I’d never expose him to what sexual pleasures I derive from these letters. I don’t write to you because I need some paternal figure to fuck me into happiness. You skipped every sentence where I stated my hatred, didn’t you? Your vanity is a lion compared to my own negligible and kittenish pride. I hope that lion mauls you while you touch yourself but saves that perfect cock for me._

_I imagine, over and over, the way fire will melt your skin when you go to hell for binding me like this. Maybe I’ll die before you but your suffering will outlast mine. Respond quickly. Don’t forget me._

**_Sincerely, Light_ **

**_Dear Light,_ **

_I’ve been described as cruel many times but you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t take your accusation to heart. A man who has killed thousands of people doesn’t have the right to call me cruel. Lack of orgasm makes you bold in your statements, I guess. After all, you said you were good for me and haven’t come._

_But you weren’t good, were you? I see in your letter that you got off to my writing after I told you not to. I don’t blame you entirely for that. When your response arrived, my cock hardened the moment Watari handed me the envelope. Even the stamp made my heart stutter with sick joy that my favorite delinquent wrote back. I pleasured myself with a slick hand, cupped my balls and teased my cock as I read your descriptions of desperation. I want you naked, beautiful Light, and to see the man who agitates my desire sucking my cock. My hypocrisy knows no bounds but that you know very well._

_I don’t believe you about what you want. Vanity, as you say, is a lion in me but your own isn’t so much a kitten as it is a rotting wound. Puss seeps from it whenever you insist on your hateful wish for my suffering. You’re a little liar who does need a daddy to disipline you out of your prideful indulgences. If I were less busy with my commitment to providing true justice, then I’d come to your grey corner of the world and turn you over my knee. Your ass will be pink from my hand as I spank a real promise from you. I estimate it will take thirty swats before you tell the truth and five more before you’re wailing about how you’ll be good from now on. But these are preliminary calculations. You’re a difficult equation to solve._

_How does that strike you? Are you soaked through imagining my handprints on your bottom? I’d finger you after, once you sob and swear no more disrespect, while my own body remains engulfed by lust. You’re right to call me greedy. As I write this, I imagine writing my name on your reddened skin with one finger so I appear where your blood has fled. Touching you would be as much your reward as it would be my own thirst quenched. Unfortunately, you decided to play at criminality and have left us both hungry and humping our own hands._

_You’re wrong. I’m not a cruel man. Although you don’t need to know how, I’ve included something along with my letter that the prison can’t take. It’s for, as you put it, practice. Pleasure yourself as much as needed and come when you want. Pinch those hard nipples while you do and picture my mouth where your fingers are. A tongue, I’ll tell you, is soft when licking but teeth always accompany it. Imagine mine biting your chest while you come. Write soon. I have a short attention span._

**_Yours, L_ **

****

**_L—_ **

_Today I thought about kissing you. I thought about sitting in your lap and feeling your hard cock beneath my ass, my legs split around your waist and hands in your hair. Is it as tangled as it looks in my memory? Have you ever brushed it? I imagine my fingers, like everything else in my life now, would be caught in the knots you left there._

_Your gift is appreciated. That you also provided batteries is a second kindness I didn’t expect after the first one of giving me the actual vibrator. When I hold it to my cock, the sensation shatters my body and I have come so much in the past week that, for the first time, my cunt is sore. I think the guards feel sorry for me because they don’t stop me from undressing anymore. Or maybe they’re watching me through the cameras as I fuck myself on the vibrator. Does that make you jealous to know that a few of Japan’s finest have access to what you can only read about?_

_It’s hard for me to think of you seeing me in the flesh. You don’t live in reality to me anymore. When I think of you, the body is imagined although more anatomically correct now thanks to that picture. I can hear your voice smoothed by memory alone as it whispers to me. I hear it while I read your demands, a deep groan telling me how you’re going to make me behave. As though your hand will readjust what a deadly notebook gave me. Your equation is arousing but laughable—the spankings quantity is not the variable to measure._

_Can we be honest with each other? I’ll tell you two truths and then you can send me back yours. This is my first. Before when you asked for an unspoken fantasy of mine, I skirted around the answer. The truth is much more humiliating. During the first week of my imprisonment, I got off on a fantasy of you fucking my confession from me._

_The exact details of the coitus remain in a haze since I never penned them down. How could I do that with all the shame conflated in the concept? Here is the bare bones: me and you in our shared bedroom with you clothed and me naked. I’ve never imagined this where my confession really happened. Humiliating as the fantasy already is, I can’t bear the thought of being fucked in that stupid taskforce conference room. All those policemen, men who knew me as a good son and promising detective, sat through my actual interrogation with disbelieving anger. What would they do if they’d watched me sob that I was Kira while you bounced me on your cock?_

_Every time I imagined this scene, you pushed me to the bed with one hand on my chest. The other hand held the Death Note just like you’d held it in the conference room between smug fingers. Instead of confronting me with the disproven thirteenth rule while eating cookies, you whisper the evidence along my pelvis. You press accusations to the fold between my thigh and crotch until my legs kick from desperate need. Since it’s not real—it’s a fantasy—I’ll do anything to make you get me off even tell you how much I enjoyed my work as Kira. After I confess, you stuff the Death Note into my mouth and fuck me open. Now that my guilt is assured, I can’t scream my pleasure and I come silently. I can’t run or argue that you’ve made me say this. I can’t dig my grave any wider._

_Today, I received an update on my execution. My date has been set for two weeks from now. Here is the second truth: I’m afraid. I’ve never been dead before. Please, respond soon. Don’t expect a letter back._

**_~~Sincerely~~  Yours, Light_ **

**_Light—_ **

_This first point doesn’t count as one of my truths although it is, in all seriousness, an honest confession. I am jealous of those guards. My nights have been spent half sweating over the moral implications of accessing the prison cameras just to watch you writhe on that vibrator. Instead I must picture you, legs pinched together and moaning, pleasuring yourself to an unseen audience. You’ve always been a showman and I know this situation would bear your attractive flair._

_My letter will be short this time so that it arrives within your remaining two weeks. I apologize that I don’t have further time to titillate you by describing how I touched myself thinking of you gagged and fucked through your guilt. However, I will spare a few words to tell you that I’d never have you in front of those men, nor any men. You’re worth more than their eyes have paid and after I threw my life on the table to gamble at solving the Kira case, I’m the only man who can afford your full price._

_Two truths is difficult for me. I don’t know much that’s honest and I don’t care to. Here is an easy first truth: my birthday was five days from when you confessed. We nearly celebrated it, me and Watari, but decided to wait until after we solved the case. I’m twenty five._

_Enclosed with this letter is a cell phone. Don’t use this to call anyone except the one contact number programed into it. After you call, please remain calm. You’ll handle yourself fine, I’m sure, and will know what to do. Despite your demand, I expect a letter back and will give you my second truth upon receiving that correspondence. Be quick in your response time._

**_Yours, L_ **

**_L—_ **

_I hate you. That man on the phone told me you bargained for me to be released into your custody. Whatever strings you pulled, I hope they twist around your neck and hang you. Where are you now? When you find me, I’ll be naked and I expect you to do everything you’ve promised._

**_Yours, Light_ **

**_Dear Light,_ **

_Unfortunately, L has taken ill with a cold. He couldn’t respond to your last letter because, in his words, his hands are too weak to pen a single perversion. However, he insisted I write what he’s dictated to me and send it to you. As an answer to your question, we are about to board a plane now from Paris to Japan but, of course, L waited until now to write. Likely, we’ll all see each other before you see a hint of this letter._

_He would like you to know his second truth which is that he’s allergic to sheep’s wool. He can only wear alpaca wool and asks that, if you have any sheep’s wool in your closet, you remove it. We will find replacements. While I don’t care to know what you mean by “everything you’ve promised”, if any of your desired activities involve wool please replace them with alternative ones._

_L asked me to say that he looks forward to kissing you. I suggest that you refrain from kissing him as he will still be sick when we land. He has a poor immune system. I’ll ask as well you express your thankfulness in less destructive terms. It reads poorly when one knows you’ll soon be in close quarters with one’s ward after you’ve hoped for their strangulation._

**_Regards, Watari_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey-o! thank u for reading! let me know in a comment what your favorite sexy part of the fic was or even just if you liked these letters at all!


	52. You look even more beautiful than I remember + Please don’t leave me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of the "friends with benefits" short fic

“How long?”

Light looked across to L, who didn’t look back. His question, said in the firm monotone L used for evidence briefings, was directed at the papers pinched in his fingers. Although the hotel room tonight was bigger than any Light ever saw before, they kept to the sitting room sofa seated with a foot space between them. They were contained like overgrown plants in a glass case of their own making. Even in that seclusion, Light felt the vines of his affection curl under the case’s rim and brush against L.

“I told Mikami I had an eye appointment after work,” Light said. “So we have an hour and a half at best.”

L nodded, letting papers slip through his fingers one at a time. “I’ll have Watari make a false prescription for you. Twenty-twenty, still?”

“Yes.”

That was a lie; Light wore reading glasses at night and went to the eye doctor the day before. But he couldn’t tell Mikami that, not with such a perfect excuse to stay late available to him. And he couldn’t tell L about his weakened eye-sight. This he didn’t have good reason for. All he wanted was to be a frozen picture to L—a physical memory who never changed. He worried that, if he changed, L might hate him for it or, worse, love him in a new way. Either option meant Light would have more trouble turning from him again the way he had months ago to start dating Mikami.

At last, L dropped his last paper and turned his attention to Light. Dark eyes scanned him from face to hips before L reached out and touched Light. His hand was as strong as Light’s fantasies remembered and held fast to his knee. In a dip where skin and fabric pulled tight, he rubbed his thumb. “You look even more beautiful than I remember.”

Light laughed and covered L’s hand, pressing his fingers in the empty spaces between the other man’s. “Flattery? Did Watari finally tell you about the honey and vinegar tactic?”

“No. I just mean it.” L took a pause and then let out an uncharacteristic sigh. “Sometimes I can’t sleep because I think I tricked myself months ago into thinking you were so striking, so handsome, that I was stupid to let go of you.” He shook his head while Light’s cheeks flamed a deepening pink. “I never slept much anyway so don’t feel any burden for your choice to go. I’m sure you’ve done what’s best for yourself.”

Tilting back and forth, Light couldn’t think what to say. He leaned into L and captured his mouth. The hand on his knee left to clutch his waist and drag him closer to L. Their hips rubbed bone against bone as shared whines filtered through the kiss.

Each bite and lick L laid upon Light’s mouth telegraphed please don’t leave me with fervent desperation.


	53. touch yourself (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light finds a disc which contains a strange and off-putting version of L

Light flicked the disc between the pointer fingers on both hands. Tilted forward, the jewel case caught his desk lamp’s glare and shone a brilliant blue. He shifted it and read the heavy sharpie labeled disc again:  **GENESIS BETA**.

He found the disc buried among the few possessions left behind after the Wammy house took back the late L’s property. Although, Light considered, maybe it was never L’s to begin with and always belonged to whatever fortune Watari amassed as an inventor. After the stern faced English men finished sweeping all the technology and files, Light snuck back into the taskforce building. Part of him did so for nostalgia but he also suspected there were hiding spots yet uncovered. He was correct—beneath a loose floor tile was a metal box—but his treasure was slight. A few notes L wrote in English, a small porcelain clown figure and, of course, the disc.

He got up, checked the hall for his parents or Sayu and then shut his door. Satisfied it was locked, Light sat at his computer and put the disc in. A whirr from computer brought to mind crashing waves and echoed through his dark room. One minute passed before a dialogue box appeared on screen asking if Light wanted to download the files on GENESIS BETA. Without hesitation, he selected yes.

Downloading took some time and he walked around his room while he waited. Ryuk had flown away tonight stating he needed to stretch his wings. Light suspected the excuse was to placate him while Ryuk enjoyed the freedom he got used to during Light’s confinement. A loud beep interrupted his musings and Light raced back to the desk. Over his screen was a white window with a flashing set of green letters— _INITIATLIZING_ —that disappeared and gave way to a large video screen.

Light stumbled and fell over. On the video screen, whole and watching, was L.

Or it looked like L and moved its head in the same smooth tilt that L had done. Dark eyes illuminated by an unknown light source peered through the computer screen at Light. His chest tightened so much that his words pulled through like hair yanked from a drain.

“Who are you?” Light coughed up.

“I’m L.” A pause gave it time to tap its chin before continuing. “You don’t believe me, but I am. I’m more L than what you buried.”

“Are you a spirit? Did he download his soul onto that disc? How are you L? He’s dead.”

The computer L nodded and a smile cracked his mouth upward. “I am dead. But I’m also here. Is this how you want to spend our time together?”

Dry throat squeezing his breath, Light swallowed and clambered into his chair. He pressed his hand over his mouth and his mind whirred trying to explain the thing on screen. L hummed and clicked, picking his teeth with a pinkie nail. Light took a deep breath and faced the screen fully.

“Touch yourself,” he said. “If you’re real, touch yourself.”

L grinned wider and dragged his tapered fingers down his white sweater. Had it always had those faint dirt stains? Or was that chocolate? Light blinked, his thoughts unfocused, as L dipped his hand lower until there was the distinct click of a zipper. Panic widened Light’s eyes as the screen L pulled his hand back up and spat on it.

“Whatever you say.” This L’s eyes appeared blue through the screen haze. “Do you want to touch yourself too, Light?”

Light shook his head as L put his hand back down and a slick noise filled the audio. “I didn’t want you to jerk off.”

“You did. You always did, remember?” L didn’t speak in a breathy voice or affect lust in his tone. It sounded perfunctory like he was giving a report. “Back when you and I shared a bed, you looked when I touched myself and crawled right over to get a taste.”

“Stop. I didn’t do that.” Heat flushed Light’s cheeks. The memory bit him as he denied it and left him aching. “I never thought of you that way.”

L let out a clipped moan. “ _Ah._ You wanted my cock so bad. You needed  _ah_ someone to give you  _ah, fuck_ what you desired.” Red tinted magenta through pixels crept of L’s face. “Touch yourself, Light, like you touched yourself with your hand cuffed to me.”

Light slapped his hands over his ears and clamped his legs together, isolating the deep heat between them. “Please! That’s enough!”

“You can’t avoid this. Didn’t I fuck you when you asked?” The wet slip of L masturbating was all encompassing as was his voice. “Didn’t I let you taste my cock? Didn’t I give you enough pleasure, enough orgasms, that you slept through work days?” He huffed and his dirty white shirt fluttered, showing flashes of a bone thin chest. “Didn’t I let you kill me and hold me in your arms, Kira? Touch yourself for me. Do it.”

Hands trembling, Light let one drift toward the pulsing warmth in his crotch. His fingers brushed his trouser button and a piercing shriek shot through his ears. It was as though a hot arrow rammed into him and Light jolted, his eyes flying open. Beneath his hands were his bedsheets; his clothes were a loose shirt and sweats. He had been dreaming. With the back of his hand, Light wiped sweat from his forehead and checked his bedside alarm: five in the morning. He decided he deserved a few more moments of rest and turned the alarm off, digging himself back into his covers.

At his desk, a disc whirred in his computer.


	54. are you crying?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L is trapped in one of Light's nightmares

L dragged his spoon around a ceramic cup rim until its sharp ring echoed through the whole room. His coffee trembled in a low puddle and reflected his considering expression. He stood in the kitchen of his task-force building with the kettle only just steaming. Puffs of grey poured across the counter where his cup sat like mist across a moor. Clink. Clink. The metallic sonar of his spoon hypnotized him and, subsequently, left L startled when a sob cut through the other noise.

With easy hands, L let go of his cup and watched the spoon continue to move as though on an invisible string. It tipped and swirled independently through the coffee. L tapped a finger to his lips as the spoon danced and the sobs in the other room thickened. He glanced through the kitchen door-frame. Dark shadows traced down the long hallway broken by a single open door’s yellow light spilling out.  

His toes curled and L rubbed the front of his thin t-shirt. A dream. He must’ve been in a dream. Spoons didn’t move on their own nor did hallways stretch so far in the building. He was intrigued by this unreality and that curiosity guided L out of the kitchen, step by bare footed step toward the open door.  

The cries became louder, as he journeyed forth, and familiar. L bit his lower lip, worried it with front teeth that felt unwieldy in this dream body. He often thought his real front teeth were over-sized but, in the unreality, they were problematic. As he neared the open door’s feral glow, L wondered whether he’d be able to speak at all with such large teeth. Around the door frame was a sight that put this question right out of his head.

Light’s large, fine-boned hands surrounded his face and filtered his wet sobs. Between fingers were slips of skin and hair that showed fragments. L stepped in the room and, when his foot touched the carpet, Light’s crying ceased. His hands lowered with a squelch. Viscous red ooze stuck to them and stretched as Light held them in his lap. He flexed his fingers and the ooze snapped in two.

“I can’t see past it.” Light used one finger to wipe beneath his eye where, L observed, the ooze came out like tears. “The red. All I see is the red and the wet.”

“Arff youff cryfing?” L cursed the large teeth which ruined his speech. “Sforrfy. It’sf a drfeam.”

More ooze pressed from Light’s eyes as a wail shook loose out his mouth. “I’m lonely.” His cry tilted the words around. “I’m so-o-o-o lonely without you.”

“I’mf righft here,” L sputtered. “You’re fnot alonef.”

Through the door he still heard the spoon clink and rattle around the cup. How far away was the room from the kitchen? How far away was Light, really? When L looked at his chest, he appeared on a bed not more than a foot away but then L stared at his eyes and Light was distant. He was a universe away with a sticky face and warbled voice.  

“I w-want to w-w-wake up.” Light heaved with red smearing down his chin, down his throat. “I h-hear my alarm.”

L crushed his own eyes shut and focused on his hands. It was a trick he learned at fourteen to call himself out of dreams. Fourteen had been a year of poor sleeping habits. He felt every inch of his fingers and the expanse of his palm, focused on them until they felt real. His eyes flew open and reached for his wakefulness. Instead, he tripped forward and onto the empty bed. Light was gone.

A dream, yes. L took a heavy, trembling breath. This was not his dream. He gripped the bed-sheet and damp ooze kissed his fingers.


	55. you're so fun to touch/drinking (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and Light have sex while Light is still damp and drunk from drinking wine in the shower

His legs came out first; half shadow, half gold. Next was a plume of steam—shower almost twenty minutes long to build up such a mist—which smelled like soap and warm wine. One hand had the culprit for the sweet sour scent: a square glass with a good finger of Port left in it. Light drank the wine slow, lips stained cherry-dark and half-smiling, while he looked back at L, who lounged on the bed. L tilted to the right, his own hands on his zipper and eyes trained on the loose belt of Light’s bathrobe.

“Did you drink that in the shower?” L asked.

Light shook his head and downed the last magenta sliver, wiping his mouth with the bathrobe sleeve. His arm dropped and exposed a red smear across the white fabric. He ambled toward the bed with a drunken grace before setting one knee on the covers. The robe split over his perched thigh and dangled just barely over his lower half.

“I waited.” With the one knee, Light bounced onto the bed and held his glass out for L to take. “Drank a little before. A little after.”

L gave Light a doubtful look and used two fingers to pluck the glass from him. “A little after?”

Teeth blared in a guileless smile as Light leaned forward. “Maybe a lot after.” He winked and his robe slunk off his shoulder when he did. “How much is too much, huh?”

Alcohol was troublesome, or at least L thought it was before a week ago. Celebrating the arrest of Higuchi, the task force brought out a surprise bottle of expensive wine (L suspected Watari’s credit card would show the bottle’s true origin) and everyone except the still eighteen Light got a glass. Persuaded by his own curiosity, L let Light sip a few too many times, and his opinion of alcohol shifted as a blush spilled over the other man’s cheeks. After all, without those gulps of wine previous, Light wouldn’t have kissed L in their shared bed that night, nor would he have grasped the handcuff chain and wrapped them together in gentle passion. L never imagined how lust would be a thick pool and how good it felt to sink beneath lust’s surface with Light’s mouth on his. Perhaps that sensation—like drowning but wonderful—was the reason he stole away with his prime Kira suspect at midnight. Troublesome was the exact right word not for alcohol, but for Light when his eyes grew glassy from it.

One hand crawled toward Light’s and L’s other hand dropped off the glass. He grasped Light by the wrist, pulled him close and kissed his wine-soft mouth. It tasted metallic and sweet, like he’d been kissed already, kissed a thousand times. L begged with chaste pecks until Light opened the kiss, his whining tart on L’s tongue.

Two days passed since they’d run off together and it wasn’t exhilarating anymore. No thrill wiggled L’s spine when he worked a hand beneath the robe and held Light. Fine hair rubbed where L touched the base of Light’s back and he coaxed the other man from hands and knees into his lap. Light was warm, a little damp still, and pliant from wine—it was no shock to bed him. Instead, L moaned with all the pleasure of a satisfied diner finally eating what he hungered for, what he’d ordered before but never gotten. He allowed his hand to be greedy and brushed Light’s ass, happy for the give as he squeezed one cheek. Tempted though he was to give the flat behind a quick smack, L trailed his hand away and grazed Light’s hipbones.

Was the sex worth blowing off the NPA before the Kira case finished? Maybe. His reasoning was hazy but, overall, L didn’t have an interest in whatever men in suits thought about his top subject filling his bed. Light rolled his hips, his bare cunt still hot even through thick denim. The thought of him nude against the solid barrier of clothes aroused L and he bucked his hardening groin upward, pleased with the soft groan it incurred. He placed his other hand where the careless bathrobe knot kept intimacy curtained and tugged before a gentle nip at his lower lip stopped his fingers.

“Ask.” Light’s voice was stone—heavy and solid—and stayed L’s movement. “You want it off? Ask first.”

L swallowed but his other arm, more mischievous than his mouth, wrapped around Light’s waist and pulled him in tight. Chest to chest, he felt the hard patter of a fraught heart and, around his hips was the seal of strong thighs. He squeezed Light, who didn’t break eye contact despite a trembled _ah_.

“May I undress you?” L asked the question to Light’s mouth, which twisted wryly. “May I undo your tie?”

“Why do you want to take this off?” Light tugged the hem of his robe up an inch and a small crescent scar L discovered days ago revealed itself. The scar’s story was a cooking accident with Sayu, or at least that’s what Light said. L knew what a chemical scar looked like. Someone had been playing with matches.

“You’re so much fun to touch.” L took a hand from Light’s hip and slipped beneath his robe to caress his pubic hair—neat, brown and as sensitive as the rest of Light. “Please. May I see you?”

A hiccup precipitated Light nodding. “Go ahead,” he said. “Yours for the taking.”

L yanked the robe’s belt free and white fabric tumbled from Light’s frame until he was naked, held on either side by twig-like hands that sunk into his bare flesh. Light hummed, his nipples tight and brown like small peach pits, and L leaned in to see if their taste was as sweet. Gliding over one and then the other with a curious tongue, L licked up not just the tender nipples but the tight grip Light took in his dark hair, the high whines from his oft-kissed mouth. Mouth wrapped around one, he sucked at it and teased the other nipple by circling his thumb over and over. Light shook and rocked himself against L, his cunt dampening the denim above his cock.

“L.” Light spoke without easy breath; his name was labored. “L, please.”

Spit strung from the nipple to L’s open mouth as he pulled away, both hands now dropped to Light’s thighs. He spread his fingers over the expanse of shower-humid skin, kneading what little flesh he could. Light didn’t have legs that gave. No, he had runner’s legs so tight and firm L suspected he ran every day. Or he had, before his imprisonment. The hand holding L by the hair trickled from his scalp until Light had the base of L’s skull in his palm.

“Do I get to see you?” His question was half-serious, half undermined by the glint in his eyes that answered for L. Still, L massaged the taut muscles beneath his palms, danced his hands over the strong jut of Light’s hips to grasp him by the ass. Fingers dug into either cheek, he tugged until they spread and Light lifted, tilted backward by L moving up and over him. On his back, Light let his legs fall open and his cunt, exposed and wet, pulsed when L moved a finger across it.

“You don’t want to see me,” L said to Light’s soft throat. “You just want to be seen.”

He was fed by the low pleas Light gasped out as he fingered and teased him open further. At times, L wondered whether this was what he wanted when he first laid eyes on Light—not to fuck him, but to unzip his body. Had he known that the trick lay between those perfect legs, that to pull apart his suspected Kira meant to coax an entrance from his intimate spaces, perhaps his theft of Light might’ve happened different. Maybe the cell would have been a room like the one they were in now and the handcuffs would be his own thin fingers biting into Light’s wrists.

But he hadn’t really stolen Light, had he? It was Light who whispered the plan to run off in L’s ear while his mouth still stunk of wine, his body still marked by their previous passions—Light, who shut off the cameras, who told L how he’d hidden his crush for months waiting to let it show in a moment of drunken surprise, who seemed to split his shell and expose tender insides the moment he touched that notebook in the helicopter.

L pressed into Light bit by bit, his thrusts shallow and gentle. He couldn’t quite fuck him with his full length yet with Light’s cunt still too tight. But the warm swallow of him, the way Light flashed eyes dark and focused over L, made those few inches he got worth much more. Arms around L’s shoulders weighed like chains binding the two of them together in easy rhythmic rocking.

Touch feathery and playful, Light played with the dark curls on L’s neck before tilting his head back. His moans grew deep as L thumbed over his cock and bent to catch his nipple again, kissing it with bared teeth. While he felt practiced in the movement, L also had the stomach-turning urge to become feral, to rip from the pleasing embrace with Light and run far away. In a bag not more than four feet from the bed, a notebook lay buried beneath several sweaters with hand-written instructions looped like a leash around L’s throat. He didn’t feel them, didn’t know their tight hold. He only felt Light’s fingers flex over his back as beneath him pulsed his death’s orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't think too hard abt the logistics on this one. Light just wrote down L's name in the Death Note but with specific instructions that he falls dick first for Light, runs away with him, and then dies a month later at which point Light would go back to his family saying he was kidnapped and Kira murdered L before Light could save him. or something like that. hmm. anyway let me know how dumb or sexy this was in a comment thanks.


	56. i've been thinking of you all day/forest (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cryptid L and Light hump in the forest

Mello and Near insisted on walking to school by themselves. They told Light that because they “weren’t babies” and had “perfectly good, if not above average, hundred-meter dash scores” that the short stroll to the local elementary was fine. Wammy didn’t raise the issue further until after a late April rainstorm brought out a plethora of pill bugs which the two kids dared each other to eat and made them sick for several days. The decision to make Light guide them to school and back was met with spirited protests against their infancy but all complaints fall on partially deaf ears: During his last trip to London, Wammy misplaced his hearing aid and only heard every other word.

Of course, no one listened to Light who said they ought to just take the school bus.

Clear skies cast down on him as Light made his way from dropping the kids off toward the Wammy house. Sun weighed his parka down on his shoulders and he wiped sweat from his neck. Along the cracked sidewalk grew a few dandelions and other thick green weeds over the rough gray surface decorated by graffiti. Children’s handwriting spelled out lost names, declarations of which video game character was best, which video game characters were pussies, and one particular mark read that Beyond Birthday had been there. Light stopped when he saw this one, dropped to a knee, and traced the jagged font. Next to the graffiti was a date—2001—and a smiley face that smeared into a more sinister grin.

He sighed, his knees popping when he stood, and looked across the street. The kids’ school faced toward town a few miles away down a steep hill lined by brick buildings, cheap housing, and a few abandoned lots overrun by tall grass. L said he slept in the lots a few times while he was younger, when they were filled by bookshops and leather emporiums, because as a small tree creature people felt more at ease allowing him inside. Light turned to his left where the road led off to the nicer part of town and Wammy’s house and then swung right, heading off to the forest.

Sidewalk steadily disappeared into just gravel road, which itself grew crustier the further right one got until it crumbled to the thick brown forest dirt. Cushiony and still damp from the previous rain showers, the dirt sunk under Light’s boots as though it recognized them. Every tree shone green and broad in springtime sunlight when he entered and blanketed Light in their cool shadows. His parka swung at his sides, now unburdened by the boulders of heat.

He didn’t know how to explain the satisfaction that came from stepping into the forest—only that the dirt under him, the trees above him and the clear knowledge L was somewhere inside made his heart settle. Light wandered for a few minutes over obstinate roots and the fresh mushrooms growing from them. Not in a hurry, he checked under the caps to see the gills of poisonous species and plucked them up for L. He liked the flavor of the poisonous ones best.

While the cave was a favored haunt, L posted up in various locations around the forest depending on his mood. Where Light found him was between two trees whose trunks and roots knotted together in a thick hammock shape across the forest floor. L reclined over the entire length, one arm thrown over his eyes and his chest rising in steady, resting breaths. His other arm draped over his stomach and his twigged fingers pinched a small blue book open right at the middle. Light strode with mushrooms stuffed in his left pocket, the other filled by a smaller notebook and his wallet.

Once close enough, he peered at the book’s spine and his heart jumped. _Common Erogenous Zones and Other Sensual Advice._ Covering the author’s name was a thick red library sticker that shouted REFERENCE USE ONLY and beneath that, a smaller label that said ADULT. Light sucked his teeth, imaging L stealing into the town’s library to snatch the adult material and the librarian’s frustration the next morning. Ms. Lidner, a blonde woman who had a face unsuited for surprise, complained to Light when he brought Near and Mello to the library for various reading programs.

“Some pervert has been taking all the erotic books.” She whispered to him while checking out the kids’ shared stack of Captain Underpants.

“Oh.” Light nodded and shoved Near away, whose half-shout about how he knew what a pervert was muffled as he knocked into Mello. “How weird. So they just disappear?”

Lidner shook her head with a bemused expression. “That’s the weird thing. I always get them back within a week.” She sighed and handed over the children’s books to grabbing ten and twelve year old hands. “But they’re always covered in dirt and twigs like someone did stuff to them in the woods. It’s not unusual for stuff to go missing and then turn up a little later, you know? But the sex stuff?” A soft tongue click and Lidner tapped her long nails on the desk. “That’s new. Sort of exciting, I guess.”

Light, despite his blank smile and vague nod, agreed that the sex stuff was sort of exciting although he imagined his enjoyment was greater than hers. After all, he was the one the pervert in the woods tested out all his new found eroticism on. L licked, sucked and teased Light until his body ached while the cave’s old bed creaked from overuse. Whatever the books provided was essential knowledge to making Light unable to speak, only twist further into a pleasure shared between himself and his cryptid lover.

A snuffle brought him back to where he stood over L, still napping along the large tree roots. Light took the book from his hands gingerly and checked the page L was on. Another snuffle and L moved in his sleep, one foot dropping so his legs were split open. Cracking his neck, Light sat with his back against the tree root, head cushioned by the leg L still had laid up. He studied where a muddied thumbprint marked a section on worshiping a lover’s arms and shivered. The book described how sensual it was to taste every body part, not just those more southward, and Light lost himself in imagining L’s tongue caressing the pit of his elbow. He yelped when the leg he laid on shifted and L sat up, sleep-hazy eyes gone focused as he gazed down at Light.

“Hello.” His voice coddled the greeting in a low timbre that warmed Light’s cheeks. “Are you reading my book?”

“Only a piece.” Light reached into his pocket and held out a mushroom. “Hungry?”

Two careful fingers took the orange-capped mushroom and dropped it into L’s sharp-toothed maw. He chewed with a considering expression before swallowing. Eyes closed, he nodded in approval.

“What a nice toxic variety,” he said. “How energizing after a rest to have good mushroom.”

“Were you sleepy today?” Light gestured to the hammock-like tree roots. “I’ve never seen you here for a nap before.”

L nodded. “I was awake a long time last night.” He grinned through the sentence, eyes dancing as Light remembered his own part in that wakefulness. “But I also sleep more during the warm days. These trees are a good napping place, if you’re inclined, and reading about sex without having it makes me tired.”

“You could masturbate,” Light said. “I don’t think I ever asked, but have you?” L’s silence shoved him into clarifying. “Have you ever touched yourself before? Masturbated or anything?”

Tilting his head this way and that, L pinched his chin and ruffled the fresh moss growing there. In the warming spring months, his bark developed more and more flora until Light could swipe moss off with his thumb and find a new crop of it right underneath. He took samples back to his attic room to place alongside various mason jars full of L clippings—small yellow flowers from his face, roots that stuck out from his fingers during winter, and leaves that flourished after river baths—and set them in tin cans across his windowsill. An indoor garden that left his room scented by the forest—by L—and, somehow, made his dreams taste pine-sweet.

L coughed, scratched his chin again and set a fierce look on Light, the kind he got when a discovery touched him. “Not before I met you,” he said. “I didn’t consider it, to be honest. If I felt that sexual urge, I’d fuck something else.”

“Like what?” Light swallowed. He couldn’t stand to hear if L fucked deer or rabbits. Would his dick even fit? With a frustrated wave, he threw the thoughts from his mind.

A slow shrug pulled the purple collar of L’s sweatshirt down, exposing a strip of skin and bark. “Other things live in the forest besides me,” he said. “Creatures big or small that talk in languages that only creatures like us know. Nobody like me to the bone but they’re not animals or humans. Fun sort of people, though. I’ve had sex with them a few times.”

Soft and wet, Light’s mouth popped open. “I thought it was just you alone here,” he said.

“No one is ever truly alone.” L put a finger on Light’s chin and tipped his mouth shut. “Not in the forest.”

Rolling his tongue, Light savored the pressure of L’s finger holding him still. He rested his head’s weight on that finger and stared dreamy-eyed at the sharp teeth inching into the world as L smiled. With his thumb, he took a firmer hold of Light’s chin and tugged him into a short kiss.

“Will you show me what you do?” Light asked into L’s parted mouth. “Tell me what you masturbate to?”

A slick pop split their kiss and L’s lips were a blooming red. His eyes flickered from Light’s face to the book he still held and then, after a moment of thought, he nodded. Light moved to sit back down but L stopped him. Instead, he extended his arm in an invitation, scooting over to expose free room on the tree root. Without words, Light accepted the invite and tucked himself along L’s side, surprised by how warm his torso was. L usually ran cold but spring, it seemed, made everything full of sun.

L undid his jeans and brought out his cock—half-hard and free from underwear—to balance on his large palm. A few strokes were eased by pre-cum slickening the tip and then shaft into an emerald tone. Although he didn’t touch it, Light could taste the weight in his mouth as though he were swallowing it and wriggled closer to L as his pussy woke with arousal. Long, gentle pumps made the dark green cock harden further until it was straining at its full eight inches and near flat to L’s stomach.

“I usually do this without clothes.” L didn’t have the pleasure driven quiver in his voice that he got when they fucked. His tone was informational and Light almost took out paper to write the observation down. However, imaging L nude and jerking off distracted his thoughts. “Before we kissed, I couldn’t stop doing it. Like I told you, I would just find some other creature willing in the forest to fuck if the urge came over me and be done with it. But then I was so hungry for you and no matter where I went, I couldn’t find anything that tamed that urge. My body only wanted you but if it couldn't have you, thoughts about you were all that got me off.”

“What did you think about?” Light’s mouth was dry as his gaze bounced along with L’s stroking hand. “How did you picture me?”

“Naked. I would take off all my clothes, stand at the mouth of my cave and touch my cock, balls and chest to thoughts of your mouth on them. Or I’d imagine you peeling all your layers off from the coat to your small boots until you were bare and I tackled you into the dirt. Mud wrapped around your fragile flesh while I’d kiss you, devour you between your legs and tease you to tears.”

Moaning, L huffed and jerked into his own hand as Light, curiosity overwhelming him, reached out to brush his cock head. One finger grazed tip before Light dragged it down to collect the clear pre-cum. He took his hand away to protesting groans from L and sucked the pad into his mouth. A brilliant flavor—salty and metallic like a chewed buttercup—burst on his tongue. When he looked again at L, the face previously unmoved by passion was now shadowed in lust.

“What did I do?” Light asked softly. “When you had me in this fantasy, what did I do that got you off?”

“Let me in,” L said. “You let me kiss and open you until I knew each part. I’d stroke myself before we met up just thinking about how good it would be to have you in that little circle of trees we talked in. You on hands and knees pleasuring me with a mouth that confessed whatever you thought about when I asked. You with a leg on either side of my face while I bit at your thighs and heard your pleas that I be gentle. I’d always be gentle. I’d always be good for you.”

His hips tilted until they faced each other, Light with hands on L’s shoulders and L stroking his cock, mouthing at Light’s neck. Light bent his leg over L’s, hooked it and brought them closer—enough that L’s knuckles rubbed his clothed crotch with every pump.

Warm wetness suffused through his pussy as Light humped into the quickening friction and let out loud moans. He sounded bestial, uncontrolled in volume and depth, with every growing noise more desperate than the last. Flustered fingers struggled with his own pants until Light unbuttoned them finally and pressed a hand to his damp pussy, rubbing his aching cock as L continued to speak.

“I want you constantly.” L wrapped his arm around Light and pressed his hand palm-flat to his back. “You. I want to be tender with you.”

“When you read that book,” Light gasped, “did you think of me? Did you think about kissing my arm? About worshiping me?”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” L said. “Thinking about making this tree an altar of worship for your body. Thinking about how I’ll make you know my love from root to branch, from every angle.”

Light shut his eyes, tipped back his head, and rocked into his orgasm wailing as L came with him. In his mind, he thought about their mixed pleasure and sweat dripping from them onto the forest dirt, absorbed and swallowed until their offering was tasted. _Our home_ , he thought, _should carry pieces of us._


	57. hotel/first time/you're mine and no one else can have you (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light agrees to work for L in lieu of being arrested for Kira's crimes and they share a hotel room

When he was younger, Light had a book called _World Animals_ that proclaimed to have every animal listed and pictured at least once in its pages. He sat on the couch with the book on his lap while Sayu teethed and his mother worried about his father being home in time. Flipping through the pages was a game he played, faster and faster until he hit the picture of a great white shark. Wide glassy black eyes challenged him and froze Light’s skin in fear so he flip faster until the book slammed shut and he was safe, for a moment. Then he opened the book again and started his journey toward terror once more.

In the same way, Light remembered his first sexual experience with a rapid shuffling of memories. Once he touched the archival footage of a girl pressing her hand to his crotch, Light sprung from the image and onto a different one—memories of winning a tennis match, or his sister pushing him off a slide and giving him a small scar on his right thigh. Her words would echo, yes, through his rushing from the memory: _You’re so perfect and I’m so fucking lucky._ The thought wasn’t predatory as the shark’s eyes had been—searching, almost, for a vulnerable place on Light—but it chilled him just like that terrible picture had. He didn't orgasm during his first time and to know he’d failed at what other stupider men relished easily made Light ill.

Their room in the hotel had a television set in the corner which only played three channels. Light watched the news in frazzled Technicolor, static from the storm outside making each segment appear haunted by grey lines. Right now, he suspected they were in Germany because the newscasters spoke German but he never really knew where L took him. Light slept on the jets that brought them places thanks to warm-welcomed melatonin pills Watari brought him. Countries greeted him in dreams but didn’t introduce themselves.

The bathroom door opened and L leaned on the frame, shirt off but jeans still slouched around his hips. Attention now divided between coverage of a pet show and the dark hair trailing beneath L’s waistband, Light rolled on his stomach and propped up his chin.

“Are we in Germany?” His question rolled off his tongue with practiced disinterest. Truthfully, his chest burned at the hole in his knowledge.

“We’re in Berlin,” L nodded. “But only for the night. I thought you’d still be asleep.”

“Still?”

“From the plane to the car to the hotel, you were resting. I carried you in.” L raised one pale arm and flexed, his sinewy muscles pulsing larger than Light remembered. “I’m strong when I want to be.”

Light sniffed and went back to the TV. “I guess you don’t want to be very often,” he said. “I woke up because you were making such a racket in there. Can’t sleep now. Why are there only three channels on this thing?”

L shrugged, pushing off the door frame and over to the second bed. He flopped onto it back first and spread his arms. A peek from the corner of Light’s eye forced him to see that the strength L talked about lined his arms down to his chest—not thick as it did on the policemen Light knew, but whipcord and secret. It was the sort of strong a person kept beneath a mattress in case of emergency, in case they had to run. Light imagined L knew more about running than anyone.

“Only three channels means there’s only three things worth watching.” L piped up in a false wisdom. “If they don’t entertain you, just go to sleep and dream about killing people.”

“I can’t sleep, I already told you.” Light shut off the television and rolled himself on his side, arms folded over his chest. “And I don’t dream about killing people. I’ve never dreamed about that.”

“I’m sorry.” L turned his cheek onto the cheap-shiny covers and cast his wide dark eyes onto Light. “I don’t know what cowards dream about.”

Salt rubbed over the ice in Light’s heart and infected pain into his terror. He accepted the deal presented to him after his arrest—a paper that listed out his new employ under L that Watari slid over a cool prison visiting table—and confessed his truth as Kira to L alone. The rest of the task force, his father including, thought Light accepted an internship under the great detective. _What a wonderful opportunity,_ his family said, _but we hope you return to your studies afterward._

“I don’t know that either.” Light told the shark’s eyes staring at him. “What do I do then, if I hate the television and can’t sleep? Talk to you like we’re at some sleepover? I’m not a stupid girl.”

“If we work together, perhaps it’s good for us to talk like girls. Get to know each other.” L didn’t smile but he scooted closer toward Light’s bed. “Tell me about your first kiss, Light.”

Nothing cruel filled L’s voice which salted Light even worse. Cruelty he knew how to manipulate and make his own tool. Honesty left him scrambling and L never gave time for him to plan. Not anymore. L had Kira by his tongue and would never let go.

“I haven’t had one,” Light said.

“Oh?” Disbelief popped the question and L sat up. “What a poor lie. I’ve seen you kiss Misa, and those weren’t your first.”

Light inhaled and rolled onto his back. If he couldn’t flip pages to get away from the shark, he’d turn himself around so he didn’t have to look.

“They don’t count,” he said. “She kissed me every time. I hate kissing anyway.”

“Do you always make your own rules and expect other people to live by them? A kiss is a kiss. Not even little Kira gets to change that.”

“Fine. Then Misa was my first kiss. Are you pleased now?” Light shut his eyes and put hands over his ears. “I’m tired now, I’m going to sleep.”

Shadows of noise filtered through his fingers as creaks, rufflings and, finally, a warm voice raising the hair on the back of his hands. He opened one eye to see L above him, arms like support columns beside Light’s ears and hair like so many twisted seaweed strands black and glassy green from dim hotel lamps. Fingers crawled around Light’s wrists and he let them wrap, tug and pin him to the bed by that secret strength alone. He heard only half what L said to him next; his attention peered inside L’s mouth and tried to count the teeth.

“Are you listening?” L tapped Light’s open palm with one finger. “Wake up. Do you want to know my first kiss?”

“No,” Light said. “I don’t want to know a single thing about you. I already know all I need.”

“And what’s that?”

A hard unhappiness lodged in Light’s throat and blocked his lying. “That you hate me. You find me useful but wretched and drag me from place to place while I’m sleeping. You don’t want to know about my first kiss any more than you wanted to be my friend.” He shook his head and flipped through his thoughts, trying not to land on a tennis match, a girl with her hand at his crotch, or a man wiping his feet. “I know you’re childish and curious so when you’re tired of me, I’ll get thrown in prison and die. I know you hate me because I did what I had to do.”

“That’s all about you.” Features becoming heavy, L bent himself into a bridge until his face was inches from Light’s. “You know all you need to know about you, but not me. My first kiss was when I was thirteen. It was a boy in America who I saved from a kidnapping. He was so happy when I opened the door to his prison that he ran and kissed me. Do you know how much I hate that boy?”

“You hate him?”

L nodded, his seaweed hair caressing Light’s cheeks with soft touches. “He stole that kiss from me. I didn’t want his gratefulness or pity. Watari promised to never make me see anyone involved with cases unless I asked after that, so no one else could steal from me.” He squeezed Light’s wrists and lifted them, his torso lowering as he did until their chests touched and Light’s hands were pressed to L’s mouth. When he spoke, his lips buzzed over every finger. “I don’t hate you for whatever silly reason you imagine, Light. I hated you for stealing from me.” A soft kiss shocked a gasp from Light, who twitch his ring finger as L kissed it again. “You stole up all my attention and focus, stole my friendship. It counts as stealing, even if it’s fake. I knew if I saw Kira, he’d take something from me because that’s what greedy boys do. But I’m smarter now and you aren’t some stupid little boy, are you?”

“Please.” Light cupped his hand and his body became a bow, bent at the tender kiss L laid on his palm. “I don’t know what to do.”

L paused, his breath still wet on Light’s hands, and lowered them back to the bed. Now he held them further apart, his weight sinking them into the cushion and leaving Light breathless. He didn’t know whether it was gravity that pulled him toward L like a moon to a planet or whether that force were the same that made him open _World Animals_ again and again for the terrifying shark image. What he knew was that something powerful rushed through his limbs as it hadn’t during his first time with a girl ages ago but he couldn’t say the name of the feeling. He truly didn’t want to say because a name might have ruined him, made his resolve even weaker to L staring at him with sharp eyes.

“Do nothing,” L said. “Do everything. It doesn’t make anything different that’s already happened.” He smiled, then, with human teeth. “I don’t hate you, Light, for stealing. I made us even when I stole you for myself.”

L bent down again and Light strained into the kiss, mouth open before L’s tongue swiped across for permission. He rolled beneath him like an ocean, desperate not just to be swam in but to consume, to surround his creatures. At the release of his wrists, Light brought his hands to L’s shoulders and gasped as L’s clothed half-hard cock rubbed against him. The gasp mutated to a yelp as his tongue was given a gentle graze by L’s teeth. Their rocking grew wilder and Light wondered whether his ocean drowned L the way L yanked him upward.

“Do you know what it means that I’ve stolen you?” L mouthed at Light’s jaw and followed his head-shake with wet kisses. “You’re mine and no one else can have you. I’ve stolen all your firsts.”

Although his hands were free, ghosts of chains and thin, pale fingers surrounded Light’s wrists as he buried them in L’s hair. He stroked it and the tangles fought his movements. They challenged him to be rough, to be cruel and yank. Light gripped the hair but brought L gently to his mouth. He kissed him without noise and let his mind go still on the image of his first kiss, freely given.

Lust pent up in his stomach and his crotch swelled from it, warm as L split Light’s legs and settled between them. Humping each other into the bed was nothing short of a hurricane for Light, who couldn’t find a single memory that matched how good his body felt under L. His hips jerked and brought his thinly covered cunt to crash against L’s cock still encased in denim. _Ahs_ and _ohs_ spilled from Light as the storm grew frantic.

“I’m going to come,” he whispered. “Please, I’m going to come.”

“Louder.” L wrapped an arm around Light’s thigh, lifted it and rocked himself hard against the fevered place. “Tell me what this is. Tell me loudly.”

A flush melted over Light’s face as his head tilted back, neck exposed and pulsing with hurried breaths. “I’m going to come!” He wailed to the dead television set, which only reflected back the flare of his tousled hair and the cloud of L bending him into a pleasured shape. “I’ve never c-come before but I’m coming for you!”

Burst from his cunt up his chest and out his mouth was Light’s orgasm and it screamed. He was brighter than the moon, bigger than the ocean and as euphoric as he’d ever been in his Kira-dom. Without ceasing their bucking, Light’s hips more erratic as he came against L’s burgeoning erection. Kisses flew over his face, pressed to his lip’s corners and his eyelids, while L slowed himself alongside Light. He let his arm slip from Light’s thigh and pressed that hand to his own crotch, touching himself as he kissed Light.

“Yes,” L muttered into every kiss. “Yes, you came for me. You came and you stole and now you’re mine.”

Light kissed back, eyes closed and thoughts churning over fairness, over possession, over the moon and the ocean pulling sharks around in circles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i was a kid there was this picture of a fresh water dolphin in one of my ocean books that scared me shitless. i would get the book out, flip until i was a page away from the picture and then quickly turn the page, look at the picture for a second, and shut the book. i'd do it almost every week just to scare myself.
> 
> leave a comment on how you liked the story and what weird pictures scared you as a kid.

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy these tiny fics? want more and also rlly silly anime posts? then come follow me on my [tumblr!](http://translightyagami.tumblr.com)


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